a^^_ 


JOHN  HENKf  NASH  LIBRARY 

<§>  SAN  FRANCISCO  *> 

PRESENTED  TO  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

ROBERT  GORDON  SPRQUL.  PRESIDENT. 
<$>    BY  <* 

MR.ANDMRS.MILTON  S.RAY 

CECILY,  VIRGINIA  AND  ROSALYN  RAY 

AND  THE 

RAY  OIL  BURNERCDMPANY 

SAN  FRANCISCO 
NEW  YORK 


Come  fill  rottntt  a  bumper,  fill  ttp  to  tljc  brim* 
ftc  roljo  Brinks  from  a  bumper  5  plffcfff  not  to  Mm, 

—  <$om  .jjlloorc. 


rosUt 


A  BOOK  OF  TOASTS 

COMPILED  BY 

CLOTHO 

In  ev'ry  sorrowing  soul  I  pour*  d  delight, 
And  poverty  stood  smiling  in  my  sight. 

—  POPE. 


PAUL  ELDER  AND   COMPANY 
SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright,  1904 

by  PAUL  ELDER  AND  COMPANY 

San  Francisco 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 
London 


The  Tomoye  Press 
San  Francisco 


e  *  t  c  a  t  t  o  n 


To    THE    LOVING-CUP. 

Then  fill  the  cup,  fill  high!  fill  high! 

Let  Joy  our  goblets  crown; 
We'll  bung  Misfortune's  scowling  eye, 

And  knock  Foreboding  down. 

— JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL, 


iii 


ontents! 


Invocation  -  vii 

"Observe  when  Mother  Earth  is  dry"  I 

Toasts  to  Wine    -  2 

The  Woman  That's  Good  -       19 

Toasts  to  Woman  21 

Friendship        -  "45 

Toasts  to  Man      -  46 

"I  fill  my  bumper  to  the  brim"  -       57 

Toasts  of  Sentiment       -  58 

Bohemian  Days  -       65 

Good-fellowship   -  66 

California         -  "75 

Toasts  to  States    -  76 

Toasts  to  Rulers        -                              -  80 

Toasts  to  Nations  8 1 

Toasts  to  Our  Flag  -       86 

Toasts  to  the  Army  and  Navy  88 

Toasts  to  the  Arts     -  92 

"Drink,  Time,  thou  good  old  man  !"  95 

Anniversaries    -  96 
"  For  how  can  we  part  when  we  love  one  another  ! "       103 

Miscellanea      -  -     104 

Toasts  in  Foreign  Tongues      -                    »  126 

L'  Envoi  -     133 


3fn\jocatton 


For  the  soul  that  loves  the  music 
Of  the  glasses  when  they  clink — 

(  Glasses  clink!) 

For  the  heart  that  beats  its  highest 
When  the  fe asters  Jill  and  drink — 

{Fill  and  drink!) 
Here  be  toasts,  or  wise  or  witty, 
Gay  and  brave  ones,  grave  and  pretty; 
Many  an  old  one,  many  a  new  one ; 
Prim  or  naughty,  none' s  a  blue  one. 

To  the  eyes  that  glow  and  brighten 
As  they  watch  the  bubbles  swim; 
To  the  lips  that  curl  for  laughing 
As  they  kiss  the  goblet' s  rim; 
To  the  fay  that's  in  the  wine- cup 
And  the  magic  of  her  spell; 
To  our  banished  cares  and  sorrows — 
Get  ye  gone  and  fare  ye  welL 

Pledges  here  for  two  or  twenty; 
Faith  they  speak,  and  love  a-plenty, 
Hearts  afre  and  pulses  singing, 
Hope's  high  tide  and  joy  bells  ringing. 

Hands  around,  then,  all  together — 
Glass  to  glass  and  let  them  clink. 

(  Glasses  clink!) 
Care  is  dead  and  folly  reigneth; 
Fill  again  and  blithely  drink. 

(Fill  and  drink!) 

—  ERNEST  SYLVESTER  SIMPSON. 


Vll 


Coasts  to 


Observe  when  Mother  Earth  is  dry 
She  drinks  the  drippings  of  the  sky ; 
And  then  the  dewly  cordial  gives 
¥0  every  thirsty  plant  that  lives. 
The  vapors  which  at  Evening  weepy 
Are  beverage  to  the  swelling  deep, 
And  when  the  rosy  sun  appears, 
He  drinks  the  ocean's  misty  tears. 
The  moon,  too,  quaffs  her  paly  stream 
Of  lustre  from  the  solar  beam; 
Then  hence  with  all  your  sober  thinking 
Since  Nature  s  holy  law  is  drinking ; 
I'll  make  the  law  of  Nature  mine, 
And  pledge  the  universe  in  wine. 

—  ANACREON. 


Coasts  to 


Wine,  dear  boy,  and  truth. 

— ALCJEUS. 

God  of  the  Grape !  thou  hast  betray 'd 
In  wine's  bewildering  dream 
The  fairest  swan  that  ever  played 
Along  the  muse's  stream. 

Mix  the  brimmer — Love  and  I 
Shall  no  more  the  contest  try. 
Here  upon  this  holy  bowl 
I  surrender  all  my  soul. 

—  ANACREON. 

Drink  today  and  drown  all  sorrow; 
You  shall,  perhaps,  not  drink  tomorrow; 
Best  while  you  have  it,  use  your  breath ; 
There  is  no  drinking  after  death. 

—  BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER. 

There's  death  in  the  cup — sae  beware! 

Nay,  more, — there  is  danger  in  touching; 
But  wha  can  avoid  the  fell  snare? 

The  man  and  his  wine's  sae  bewitching! 
_____  —  BURNS. 

Come,  fill  the  cup,  and  in  the  fire  of  Spring 
Your  Winter  garment  of  Repentance  fling; 

The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter, — and  the  Bird  is  on  the  Wing. 

—  OMAR. 


Coasts  to  Wint 


As  the  nightingale  from  rose-tree  sips, 
Wise  it  is,  and  knows  that  it  is  good ; 

Thus  with  wine  we  damp  our  rosy  lips, — 
Wise  are  we,  and  know  that  it  is  good. 

Like  a  spectre-king  that  unseen  trips 

From  the  depths  of  some  far-honey'd  wood, 

Wine  should  pass  the  rose-gate  of  our  lips, — 
Wise  are  we,  and  know  that  it  is  good. 

_______  BODENSTEDT. 

Gentle  friends,  forbear  to  laugh 
As  I  toast  the  wine  I  quaff — 
Scarce  the  wisdom  Omar  found 
All  its  bounty  can  expound; 
As  its  happy  lover  sips, 
All  its  fragrance  haunts  his  lips, 
All  its  warmth  along  the  veins 
Flowing  from  the  cup  he  drains ; 
All  its  brightness  his  enhances 
As  it  sparkles  in  his  glances, 
All  its  kindliness  awhile 
Lingering  upon  his  smile. 
Fair  companions,  what  can  be 
Truer  friend  to  you  and  me  ? 
Love  his  troth  may  soon  dissever, — 
Wine  gives  all,  and  gives  forever. 

—  GEORGE  STERLING. 

Let  us  have  wine  and  women,  mirth  and  laughter — 
Sermons  and  soda-water  the  day  after. BYRON 


Coasts  to  T&int 


Ah,  my  beloved,  fill  the  cup  that  clears 
Today  of  past  regrets  and  future  fears ; 

Tomorrow! — why,  tomorrow  I  may  be 
Myself  with  yesterday's  sev'n  thousand  years ! 
^^^  — OMAR. 

Yesterday  this  Day's  madness  did  prepare 
Tomorrow's  silence,  triumph  or  despair; 
Drink !  for  you  know  not  whence  you  came,  nor 

why; 
Drink!    for  you  know  not  why  you  go,  nor 

where-  -OMAR. 


"  God  made  man,  frail  as  a  bubble ; 
Man  made  love  —  love  made  troublea 
God  made  the  vine, — 
Then,  is  it  a  sin 
That  man  made  wine 
To  drown  trouble  in?" 


"A  Frenchman  drinks  his  native  wine, 

A  German  drinks  his  beer; 
An  Englishman  his  'alf  and  'alf, 

Because  it  brings  good  cheer ; 
The  Scotchman  drinks  his  whisky  straight, 

Because  it  brings  on  dizziness ; 
An  American  has  no  choice  at  all, — 

He  drinks  the  whole  damned  business." 


Coasts  to 


"In  dulci  jubilo 
Sing  we,  make  merry  so  ! 
Since  our  heart's  pleasure 
Latet  in  poculoy 

Drawn  from  the  cask,  good  measure, 
Pro  hoc  convivio 
y  nunc  bibito  ! 


"  O  crater  parrule 
How  my  soul  yearns  for  thee! 
Make  me  now  merry, 
O  potus  optimey 
Claret  or  hock  or  sherry  ! 
Et  vos  concinite: 
Fivant  socii! 

"O  vini  caritas! 
O  Bacchi  knit  as! 
We've  drained  our  purses 
Per  multa  pocula: 
Yet  hope  we  for  new  mercies. 
Nummorum  gandia: 
Would  that  we  had  them,  ah  ! 

"  Ubi  sunt  gandia  ?    Where, 
If  that  they  be  not  there? 
There  the  lads  are  singing 
Silecta  cantica: 
There  are  glasses  ringing 
In  villae  curia. 
Oh,  would  that  we  were  there  ! 


Coasts  to  Wint 


Inspiring,  bold  John  Barleycorn, 
What  dangers  thou  canst  make  us  scorn! 

—  BURNS. 

When  Father  Time  swings  round  his  scythe, 
Entomb  me  'neath  the  bounteous  vine, 

So  that  its  juices  red  and  blythe 

May  cheer  these  thirsty  bones  of  mine. 

—  EUGENE  FIELD. 

"The  miser  may  be  pleased  with  gold, 

The  sporting  man  with  pretty  lass; 
But  I'm  best  pleased  when  I  behold 
The  nectar  sparkling  in  the  glass." 


'Tis  pity  wine  should  be  so  deleterious, 
For  tea  and  coffee  leave  us  much  more  serious. 

—  BYRON. 

With  mirth  and  laughter,  let  old  wrinkles  come, 
And  let  my  liver  rather  heat  with  wine 
Than  my  heart  cool  with  mortifying  gloom. 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes, 
And  I  will  pledge  with  mine ; 

Or  leave  a  kiss  within  the  cup, 
And  I'll  not  ask  for  wine. 

—  BEN  JoNson. 


Coasts  to 


Say,  why  did  Time 

His  glass  sublime 

Fill  up  with  sands  unsightly, 

When  wine,  we  know, 

Runs  brisker  through 

And  sparkles  far  more  brightly  ? 

Oh,  lend  it  us, 

And,  smiling  thus, 

The  glass  in  two  we'd  sever, 

Make  pleasure  glide 

In  double  tide 

And  fill  both  ends  forever! 

Then  wreathe  the  bowl 

With  flowers  of  soul, 

The  brightest  wit  can  find  us, 

We'll  take  a  flight 

Towards  heaven  tonight 

And  leave  dull  earth  behind  us! 

—  TOM  MOORE. 

In  the  goblet's  magic  measure, 
In  the  wine's  all-powerful  spirit, 
Lieth  poison  or — delight, 
Lieth  purest — basest  pleasure, 
E'en  according  to  the  merit 
Of  the  drinker  ye  invite. 

BODENSTEDT. 

Eat,  drink,  be  merry,  seize  the  present  hour; 
Deem  not  the  future  holds  a  fairer  flower." 


Coasts  to  ^tne 


Man,  being  reasonable,  must  get  drunk; 

The  best  of  life  is  but  intoxication, — 
Glory,  the  grape,  love,  gold, — in  these  are  sunk 

The  hopes  of  all  men,  and  of  every  nation. 

—  BYRON. 

"The  generous  wine  brings  joy  divine, 

And  beauty  charms  our  soul; 
I,  while  on  earth,  will  still  with  mirth 
Drink — beauty  and  the  bowl." 


"No  chord  of  music  has  yet  been  found 
To  even  equal  that  sweet  sound 
Which,  to  my  mind,  all  else  surpasses, — 
The  clink  of  ice  in  crystal  glasses.'' 


Let  those  who  drink  not,  but  austerely  dine, 
Dry  up  in  law;  the  Muses  smell  of  wine. 

—  HORACE. 


On  the  table  spread  the  cloth, 

Let  the  knives  be  sharp  and  clean; 

Pickles  get,  and  salad  both, 

Let  them  each  be  fresh  and  green. 

With  small  beer,  good  ale  and  wine, 

O  ye  gods!  how  I  shall  dine!" 


Coasts  to 


Come !  fill  a  fresh  bumper,  for  why  should  we  go 
While  the  nectar  still  reddens  our  cups  as  they  flow  ? 
Pour  out  the  rich  juices  still  bright  with  the  sun, 
Till  o'er  the  brimmed  crystal  the  rubies  shall  run. 
The  purple-globed  clusters  their  life  dews  have  bled ; 
How  sweet  is  the  breath  of  the  fragrance  they  shed! 
For  summer's  last  roses  lie  hid  in  the  wines 
That  were  garnered  by  maidens  who  laughed  thro' 


the  vines. 


—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


Then  a  smile,  and  a  glass,  and  a  toast,  and  a  cheer 
For  all  the  good  wine,  and  we've  some  of  it  here ! 
In  cellar,  in  pantry,  in  attic,  in  hall, 
Long  live  the  gay  servant  that  laughs  for  us  all ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


Allow  this  sacred  cordial  to  joy  and  freshen  thee! 
Let  all  abstemious  brethren  in  their  own  folly  sink ; 
No  drop  we  know  is  wasted  of  that  which  sages 
drink! 


BODENSTEDT. 


Once  more  fill  a  bumper — never  talk  of  the  hour; 
Our  hearts  thus  united,  old  Time  has  no  power. 
May  our  lives,  tho'  alas!  —  like  the  wine  of  tonight, 
They  must  soon  have  an  end,  —  to  the  last,  flow  as 
bright ! 


—  TOM  MOORE. 


to 


Drink  not  unfeelingly,  nor  yet  unthinking  drink ! 
Boast  not  too  vauntingly,  nor  yet  completely  sink ! 
Where  dazzling  goblets  shine,  heed  not  the  water 

ewer,  — 
He  is  not  worthy  wine  who  will  not  drink  it  pure ! 

In  it  the  power  lies  to  raise  and  to  undo; 
From  out  our  goblets  rise  wisdom  and  folly,  too. 
But  though  in  price  of  vine  evil  and  good  endure, — 
He  is  not  worthy  wine  who  will  not  drink  it  pure! 

BODENSTEDT. 

A  pretzel  and  un  stein  o'  peer, 
And  thou,  mit  sixteen  kinder, 
Ach,  my  lieber  frau, 
Sitting  beside  me,  those  garden  in, — 
Ach !  dat  were  baradise  already  now ! 

—  After  OMAR. 


Fill  the  cup  and  let  it  come, 

I'll  pledge  you  a  mile  to  the  bottom. 

—  SHAKESPEARE  —  Henry 


I  cannot  eat  but  little  meat, — 

My  stomach  is  not  good; 
But  sure  I  think  that  I  can  drink 

With  him  that  wears  a  hood. 

—  BISHOP  STILL. 


10 


Coasts  to  Wint 


A  fellow's  heart  may  nigh  be  broke, 

A  fellow's  pocket,  too; 
But  there's  always  joy  for  the  blithesome  boy 

Whose  thirst  is  ever  new.     _D  CosGRAVE> 


Pshaw,  ye  fools  that  talk  of  pleasure, 
Sitting  by  your  goblets  bright ! 

He  must  be  a  sage  can  measure 
Wine's  ineffable  delight ! 

BODENSTEDT. 


Though  a  sinner  ye  call  me, 

I  say  it  the  same, — 
Wine  is  nectar  delicious, 

To  scorn  it  a  shame. 

—  BODENSTEDT. 

I  drink  as  the  Fates  ordain  it. 

Come,  fill  it,  and  have  done  with  rhymes ; 
Fill  up  the  lonely  glass  and  drain  it 

In  memory  of  dear  old  times. 

— THACKERAY. 

Let  schoolmasters  puzzle  their  brain 

With  grammar  and  nonsense  and  learning ; 

Good  liquor,  I  stoutly  maintain, 
Gives  genius  a  better  discerning. 

—  GOLDSMITH. 


ii 


Coasts  to 


Fill  the  goblet  again,  for  I  never  before 

Felt  the  glow  which  now  gladdens  my  heart  to  its 

core; 
Let  us  drink — who  would  not?  —  since,  through 

life's  varied  round, 
In  the  goblet  alone  no  deception  is  found i 

— BYRON. 

A  reveler  I  go,  freighted  with   fire,  not  wine, 
beneath  the  region  of  my  heart.  _MELEAGER 

Drink  and  be  merry.     What  the  morrow  brings 
No  mortal  knoweth  ;  wherefore  toil  or  run  ? 

Spend  while  thou  mayst,  eat,  fix  on  present  things 
Thy  hopes  and  wishes;  life  and  death  are  one. 

One  moment ;  grasp  life's  goods ;  to  thee  they  fall,  — 

Dead,  thou  hast  nothing,  and  another  all. 

___  —  PALLADES. 

Wine  is  the  milk  of  the  old,  the  balm  of  adults 
and  the  vehicle  of  the  gourmand. 

—  A.  B.  L.  GRIMOD  DE  LA  REYNIERE. 


Drink,  luckless  lover !    Thy  heart's  fiery  rape 

Bacchus,  who  gives  oblivion,  shall  assuage ; 

Drink  deep ;  and  while  thou  drain'st  the  brimming 

bowl, 

Drive  love's  dark  anguish  from  thy  fevered  soul. 

—  MELEAGER. 


12 


Coasts  to  Wint 


Here's  to  the  grape! 
When  our  summers  are  flown 
The  age  of  our  nectar 
Will  gladden  our  own. 
We  must  die ! 
Who  will  not? 

But  should  our  sins  be  forgiven, 
Then  Hebe  will  never  be  idle  in  heaven! 

— BYRON. 


Nothing  in  nature's  sober  found, 
But  an  eternal  "health"  goes  round; 
Fill  up  the  bowl,  then,  fill  it  high, — 
Fill  all  the  glasses  there ;  for  why 
Should  every  creature  drink  but  I, — 
Why,  man  of  mortals,  tell  me  why  ? 

AN  ACREON. 


Brisk,  methinks  I  am,  and  fine, 
When  I  drink  my  cap'ring  wine; 
Then  to  love  I  do  incline 
When  I  drink  my  wanton  wine; 
And  I  wish  all  maidens  mine 
When  I  drink  my  sprightly  wine ; 
Well  I  sup  and  well  I  dine 
When  I  drink  my  frolic  wine;  — 
But  I  languish,  lower  and  pine 
When  I  want  my  fragrant  wine. 

—  HERRICK. 


Coasts  to  l®int 


Thou  sleepest  friend,  but  see,  the  beakers  call ! 
Awake,  nor  dote  on  death  that  waits  for  all. 
Spare  not,  my  Diodorus,  but  drink  free 
Till  Bacchus  loose  each  weak  and  faltering  knee. 
Long  will  the  years  be  when  we  can't  arouse, — 
Long,  long;   up,  then,  ere  age  hath  touched  our 

br°WS-  -PALLADES. 

Nay !  think  no  more,  but  grip  the  slender  waist 
Of  her  whose  kisses  leave  no  bitter  taste. 
Reason's  a  hag,  and  Love  a  painted  jade, — 
Come,  daughter  of  the  vine,  dear  and  disgraced ! 

—  R.  LEGALLIENNE. 

Drink  to  the  girls,  and  drink  to  their  mothers, 
Drink  to  their  fathers  and  drink  to  their  brothers ; 
Toast  their  dear  healths  as  long  as  you're  able, 
And  dream  of  their  charms  while  you're  under  the 
table.  __D.  C. 

Kings  it  makes  gods,  and  meaner  creatures,  kings. 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

Then  let  the  goblet  gleam  for  me,  my  friend ; 
Pour  forth  care-soothing  wine  ere  pleasures  end. 

—  PALLADES. 

Drink  wine,  and  live  here  blitheful  while  ye  may ; 
The  morrow's  life  too  late  is, — live  today! 

—  HERRICK. 


Coasts  to  Wint 


A  fig  then  for  Burgundy,  Claret  or  Mountain ! 

A  few  scanty  glasses  must  limit  your  wish ; 
But  he's  the  true  toper  that  goes  to  the  fountain, 

The  drinker  that  verily  "drinks  like  a  fish." 

—  THOMAS  HOOD. 

"  If  with  water  you  fill  up  your  glasses, 
You'll  never  write  anything  wise, 
For  wine's  the  true  horse  of  Parnassus 
Which  carries  a  bard  to  the  skies ! " 

Then  never  let  us  vainly  stray 

In  search  of  thorns  from  pleasure's  way, 

But  wisely  quaff  the  rosy  wave 

Which  Bacchus  loves,  which  Bacchus  gave ; 

And  in  the  goblet  rich  and  deep, 

Cradle  our  crying  woes  to  sleep ! 

— TOM  MOORE. 

When  Bacchus,  Jove's  immortal  boy, 
The  rosy  harbinger  of  joy, 
Who,  with  the  sunshine  of  the  bowl, 
Thaws  the  winter  of  our  soul, — 
When  to  my  inmost  core  he  glides 
And  bathes  it  with  his  ruby  tides, — 
A  flow  of  joy,  a  lively  heat, 
Fires  my  brain  and  wings  my  feet, 
Calling  around  me  visions  known 
To  lovers  of  the  bowl  alone. 

—  TOM  MOORE. 


Coasts  to  &int 


"Bless  the  grape,  and  let  it  pour 
Round  the  board  its  purple  shower; 
And  while  the  drops  my  goblet  steep, 
I  think  in  love  the  clusters  weep." 

Oh,  if  delight  could  charm  no  more, 
If  all  the  goblet's  bliss  were  o'er, 
When  fate  had  once  our  doom  decreed, 
Then  dying  would  be  death  indeed ! 
Nor  could  I  think,  unblest  by  wine, 
Divinity  itself  divine.          _  ToM  MooRE 

Old  King  Coke 

Was  a  thirsty  old  soak 

And  a  boozy  old  sot,  you  bet ; 
And  why  he  was  dry 
Is  a  problem  we'll  try 

To  attribute  to  fondness  for  wet. 

— D.  C. 

To  Beer. 

Ale  is  meat,  drink  and  cloth ;  it  will  make  a  cat 
speak  and  a  wise  man  dumb.  SWIFT. 

Come,  sit  we  by  the  fireside 
And  roundly  drink  we  here, 

Till  that  we  see  our  cheeks  all  dyed 
And  noses  tanned  with  beer. 

—  HERRICK. 


16 


Coasts  to  ^tne 


To  Whisky. 

Whisky,  bedad,  is  more  than  mate 

To  kape  alive  the  soul; 
So  here's  our  sneers  to  all  who  hate 

The  overflowing  bowl. 

But  to  the  byes  and  lasses  swate 

Who  love  a  sip  o'  rye, 
We  drink,  that  they  disconsolate 

Shall  never  live  or  die. 

May  care  slide  from  them  like  the  drink 
Slips  down  your  throat  and  mine, 

Where  whisky  bubbles  at  the  brink 
We  ne'er  shall  look  for  wine. 

— WILBUR  G.  ZEIGLER. 


"Here's  to  you  that  makes  me  wear  old  clothes; 
Here's  to  you  that  turns  my  friends  to  foes, — 
But  seeing  you're  so  near, — here  goes!" 


O  thou  my  muse !  guid  auld  Scotch  drink ! 

Whether  thro'  wimpling  worms  thou  jink, 

Or,  richly  brown,  ream  o'er  the  brink 

In  glorious  fame, 

Inspire  me  till  I  lisp  and  wink 

To  sing  thy  name!  -BURNS. 


Coast*  to  ^tnc 


O  whisky !    soul  o'  plays  an*  pranks ! 
Accept  a  bardie's  humble  thanks ! 
When  wanting  thee,  what  timeless  cranks 
Are  my  poor  verses  !  _  BuRNS 


Claret  is  the  liquor  for  boys,  port  for  men,  but 
he  who  aspires  to  be  a  hero  must  drink  brandy. 

—  SAMUEL  JOHNSON. 


A  drop  of  whisky 

Ain't  a  bad  thing  right  here. 

—  BRET  HARTE. 

While  life  was  mine,  the  little  hour 

In  drinking  still  unvaried  flew; 
I  drank  as  earth  imbibes  the  shower, 

Or  as  the  rainbow  drinks  the  dew; 
As  ocean  quaffs  the  rivers  up, 

Or  flushing  sun  inhales  the  sea; 
Silenus  trembled  at  my  cup, 

And  Bacchus  was  outdone  by  me! 

—  CAPILUPUS. 


18 


Coasts  to  ^oman 


The  Woman   That's  Good! 

Ho,  gentlemen  !     Lift  your  glasses  up, 

Each  gallant,  each  swain  and  lover; 
A  kiss  to  the  beads  that  brim  in  the  cup, 

A  laugh  for  the  foam  spilt  over. 
For  the  soul  is  alit  and  the  heart  beats  high, 

And  care  has  unloosened  its  tether; 
"Now  drink,"  said  the  sage,  "for  tomorrow  we  die," 

So  let's  have  a  toast  together. 
Swing  the  goblet  aloft,  to  the  lips  let  it  fall, 

'Then  bend  you  the  knee  to  address  her, 
And  drink,  gentle  sirs,  to  the  queen  of  them  all — 

¥0  the  woman  that's  good —  God  bless  her  ! 

A  youth  is  a  madcap,  and  time  is  a  churl; 

Pleasure  palls,  and  remorse  follows  after; 
The  world  hustles  on  in  its  pitiless  whirl, 

With  its  kisses,  its  tears  and  its  laughter. 
But  there's  one  gentle  heart  in  its  bosom  of  white, 

The  maid  with  the  tender  eyes  gleaming, 
Who  has  all  the  wealth  of  my  homage  tonight, 

Where  she  lies  in  her  innocent  dreaming. 
And  a  watch  o'er  her  spirit  shall  keep, 


Coasts  to 


While  the  angels  lean  down  to  caress  her ; 
And  Til  fledge  her  again  in  her  beautiful  sleep , — 
The  woman  that's  good — God  bless  her! 

Ah!  Bohemia's  honey  was  sweet  to  the  sip, — 

The  song  and  the  dance  were  alluring 
(The  mischievous  maid  with  the  mutinous  lip 

Had  a  charm  that  was  very  enduring )  ; 
But  out  from  the  smoke  wreaths  and  music  and  lace 

Of  that  world  of  the  tawdrily  clever •, 
There  floats  the  rare  spell  of  a  pure  little  face 

That  has  chased  away  folly  forever. 
And  I  drain  my  last  toast  >  ere  I  go  to  my  rest 

(O  fortunate  earth  to  possess  her!}  — 
To  the  dear,  tender  heart  in  the  little  white  breast 

Of  the  woman  that's  good —  God  bless  her  ! 

—  WYNNE. 


20 


Coasts;  to 


They  talk  about  a  woman's  sphere  as  though 

it  had  a  limit, — 

There's  not  a  place  in  earth  or  heaven, 
There's  not  a  task  to  mankind  given. 
There's  not  a  blessing  or  a  woe, 
There's  not  a  whispered  yes  or  no, 
There's  not  a  life  or  birth 
That  has  a  feather's  weight  of  worth, 
Without  a  woman  in  it." 


Woman's  will  bears  contradiction, — 

If  a  man  ye  be,  and  ware, — 
But  they  won't  endure  conviction ; 

Logic  women  cannot  bear. 
For  them  only  three  conclusions : 
Kisses,  tears,  and  love  effusions. 

BODENSTEDT. 

"  Here's  to  the  girls  we've  asked,  old  pal, 

Here's  to  the  girls  who  said  cnay.' 
'Tis  better  for  us  they  treated  us  thus, 

For  they're  driving  the  Mormons  away." 

Here's  to  the  elf  of  my  childhood, 
Here's  to  the  maid  of  my  youth; 

Here's  to  the  girl  who  gave  me  her  hand, 
But  refused  me  her  lips,  forsooth  ! 

— D.  C. 


21 


Coasts  to  ^otnan 


To  woman,  the  only  loved  autocrat  who   elects 

without  voting, 
Governs  without  law,  and  decides  without  appeal." 


Here's  to  the  club  girl, 
Here's  to  the  tub  girl, 
Here's  to  the  lass  who  looks  you  through; 
Here's  to  the  mannish  girl, 
Here's  to  the  clannish  girl, — 
Drink  to  'em  standing, — the  petticoat  crew! 

— D.  C. 


The  woods  are  full  of  fairies, 

The  sea  is  full  of  fish ; 
But  the  thing  I  want  is  a  woman, — 

And  that's  a  manly  wish." 


A  book  of  verses  underneath  the  Bough, 
A  jug  of  Wine,  a  loaf  of  Bread — and  Thou 
Beside  me  singing  in  the  Wilderness, 
O  Wilderness  were  Paradise  enow ! 

—  OMAR. 

Here's  to  woman!  —  ah,  that  we  could  fall  into 
her  arms  without  falling  into  her  hands ! 

— AMBROSE  BIERCE. 


22 


Coasts  to  ^oman 


Till  we  are  built  like  angels,  with  hammer,  and 

chisel,  and  pen, 
We  will  work  for  ourselves  and  a  woman,  forever 

and  ever,  Amen!  -KIPLING. 

Give  me  the  glass  that  felt  her  lippe, 
And  happy,  happy  shall  I  sippe; 
And  when  is  fled  the  daintie  wyne, 
Something  remaineth  still  divyne. 

—  PETER  PINDAR. 

"No  matter  their  color, — we'll  drink  to  the  eyes 
That  weep  when  we  weep  —  when  we  laugh,  laugh 
replies!"  

Here's  to  that  most  fascinating  woman, the  widow 

of  some  other  man!  ^  . 

—  CAROLUS  ACER. 

Were't  the  last  drop  in  the  well 
As  I  gasped  upon  the  brink, 

Ere  my  fainting  spirit  fell, 

JTis  to  thee  that  I  would  drink ! 

— BYRON. 

"You  may  drink  to  her  eyes,  her  lips,  and  her  hair, 
Her  form  divine,  distingue  air; 
But  here's  to  the  girl  with  a  heart  and  a  smile, 
Who  makes  this  bubble  of  life  worth  while!" 


Coasts  to  ^omati 


Just   Two. 

In  a  world  of  ceaseless  changes, 

Where  all  things  fade  and  pine, 

Where  love,  like  fancy,  ranges, 

There  are  just  two  hearts  worth  knowing: 

Just  two,  whose  constant  glowing 

No  sign  of  change  is  showing, — 

Your  heart,  sweetheart,  and  mine. 

So,  as  we  stand  at  parting, 
Each  glass  abrim  with  wine, 
And  feel,  with  passion  starting, 
Your  fingers  thrill  to  mine, — 
With  a  sigh  that  neither  misses, 
Let's  flood  the  wine  with  blisses, 
And  drink,  like  good  night  kisses, 
To  thy  heart,  sweet,  and  mine! 

— JOHN  MCNAUGHT. 

"  Here's  to  God's  first  thought,  cMan'! 

Here's  to  God's  second  thought, c Woman'! 
Second  thoughts  are  always  best, 
So,  here's  to  Woman ! 


"  Here's  to  our  wives,  sisters  and  sweethearts ! 

Here's  to  love,  honor  and  fame! 
Here's  to  the  girl  we  think  of,  but — 
The  girl  we  never  name ! " 


Coasts  to  ^omatt 


The  Wimmin! 

So  let  us  all,  yes,  by  that  love  which  all  our  lives 

rejoices, 
By  those  dear  eyes  that  speak  to  us  with  love's 

seraphic  voices, 
By  those  dear  arms  that  will  enfold  us  when  we 

sleep  forever, 
By  those  dear  lips  that  kiss  the  lips  that  may  give 

answer  never, 
By  mem'ries  lurkin'  in  our  hearts  an*  all  our  eyes 

bedimmin', 
We'll  drink  a  health  to  those  we  love,  an'  who  love 

us — the  wimmin! 

—  EUGENE  FIELD'S  TOAST  TO  THE  LADIES. 


Why  long  for  the  absent,  sigh  for  the  past? 
The  sweetest  of  life  from  first  to  the  last 
Is  the  sweet  that  stays  with  us  and  ever  is  near. 
Be  it  wine  that  sparkles,  or  wine  that  glows, 
White  as  the  moonlight,  or  red  as  the  rose, — 
Let  us  pour  it  and  drink  it  as  fast  as  it  flows, 
To  the  sweetest  of  sweets — the  sweets  that  are  here ! 

— JOHN  MCNAUGHT. 

Here's  to  the  love  in  her  heart 
And  the  rainbows  in  her  eyes, 

Which  cover  with  gorgeous  hues 
The  blackness  of  my  skies. 

—  BADE". 


Coasts  to  ^otnan 


The  Girl  of  California. 

The    girl    of  old  Virginia    is    a    thoroughbred    of 

vim, 
And  the  damsel  of  New  England's  intellectual  but 

prim, 
And  the  maid  of  Indiana,  when  she's  healthy  country 

born, 

Has  a  soul  as  blithe  and  hearty  as  the  sun  upon 
the  corn. 

You  may  sing  their  charms  and  graces 
And  the  beauty  of  their  faces, 

You  may  swear  you've  met  the  fairest  of  a  half  a 
hundred  races,  — 

But  your  valiant  boasts  take  care,  sir, 
And  your  gallant  toasts  beware,  sir, 
Till  you've  gazed  upon  the  girl  of  California. 

Here  the  Orient  pomegranate  ripens  glorious  on  the 

trees, 
Here  the  groves  are  hung  with  golden  apples  of 

Hesperides, 
Here  the  peaks  are  white  in  summer  far  above  the 

fir  and  pine 
While  the  vale  below  is  purple  with  the  grape  upon 

the  vine; 

And  the  merry  time  of  sowing 
Follows  close  upon  the  mowing 
And  the  hedges  smile  with  roses  that  at  Christmas 

time  are  growing,  — 


26 


Coasts  to 


But  reserve  your  admiration 
And  delight  for  that  occasion 
When  you  see  the  girl  that  grows  in  California. 

In  her  eyes  the  purple  vintage,  in  her  voice  a  note 

you  feel 
Somewhat  fondly  reminiscent  of  the  songs  of  old 

Castile ; 

But  the  Argonauts  have  blessed  her  with  an  inde- 
pendent fire, 

Though  her  heart's  as  big  and  wholesome  as  the 
acres  of  her  sire. 

If  you'd  woo  her,  have  a  care, 
For  she's  wilful  as  she's  fair, 

And  there's  call  for  Cupid's  mettle  if  he'd  trap  her 
in  his  snare, — 

But  you'll  suffer  like  a  stoic 
Any  sacrifice  heroic 
Should  it  win  for  you  the  girl  of  California. 

— WALLACE  IRWIN. 


To   The   Hostess. 

Here's  to  the  hostess  who  has  worried  all  day, 
And  trembled  lest  everything  go  the  wrong  way ; 
May  the  grace  of  contentment  possess  her  at  once, 
May  her  guests — and    her  servants — all   do    the 

right    StUntS.  _FRANC,SW,LSON. 


27 


Coasts  to  Ionian 


Our    German    Freundinnen ! 

Of  you  I  think,  Germania's  daughters  fine ! 
You  are  like  flowers,  "hold  und  schoen  und  rein" 
O'  the  Rhenish  land  I'd  fain  possess  a  slice, 
Where  hills  and  dales  are  all  so  full  of  spice. 

'Tis  happiness  to  worship  at  your  shrine, 
Great  joy  lies  hid  within  the  Rhine's  embrace ; 
So,  here  I  lift  the  dear  old  Stein 
And  drink  to  you  with  German  grace ! 

—  P.  H.  T. 


There  are  no  times  like  the  old  times  —  they  shall 

never  be  forgot; 
There  is  no  place  like  the  old  place — keep  green 

the  dear  old  spot ! 
There  are  no  friends  like  the  old  friends  —  may 

heaven  prolong  their  lives ! 
There  are  no  loves  like  the  old  loves, —  God  bless 

our  loving  wives ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


A  wife  as  tender  and  as  true  withal, 
As  the  first  woman  was  before  her  fall ; 
Made  for  the  man,  of  whom  she  is  a  part, 
Made  to  attract  his  eyes  and  keep  his  heart! 

—  DRYDEN. 


28 


Coasts  to  ^oman 


Here's  to  the  maiden  of  bashful  fifteen, 

Here's  to  the  widow  of  fifty; 
Here's  to  the  flaunting,  extravagant  queen, 
And  here's  to  the  housewife  that's  thrifty ! 
Let  the  toast  pass, 
Drink  to  the  lass, — 
I  warrant  she'll  prove  an  excuse  for  the  glass ! 

Here's  to  the  charmer  whose  dimples  we  prize, 
Now  to  the  maid  who  has  none,  sir; 

Here's  to  the  girl  with  a  pair  of  blue  eyes, 
And  here's  to  the  nymph  with  but  one,  sir! 
Let  the  toast  pass,  etc. 

Here's  to  the  maid  with  a  bosom  of  snow, 
Now  to  her  that's  as  brown  as  a  berry ; 

Here's  to  the  wife  with  a  face  full  of  woe, 
And  here's  to  the  damsel  that's  merry ! 
Let  the  toast  pass,  etc.          _SHERIDAN. 


A  woman  is  like, — but  stay, — 
What  a  woman  is  like,  who  can  say  ? 
There's  no  living  with  or  without  one.1 


"Here's  to  woman,  a  mistress  of  arts,  who  robs 
a  bachelor  of  his  degree,  and  sometimes  even  forces 
him  to  study  philosophy  by  means  of —  curtain  lec- 
tures!" 


29 


Coasts  to  2£otnan 


Age  cannot  wither  nor  custom  stale 
Her  infinite  variety.  -SHAKESPEARE. 


"  Here's  to  the  woman/'  sensitive,  swift  to  resent, 
but  as  swift  in  atoning  for  error!      _ LONGFELLOW 


Here's  to  the  woman  who  has 

Grace  in  all  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eye, 

In  every  gesture  dignity  and  love! 

—  MILTON. 

For  though  they  almost  blush  to  reign, 
Though  love's  own  flowers  weave  the  chain, 
Disguise  the  bondage  as  we  will, 
'Tis  woman, — woman  rules  us  still! 

—  LONGFELLOW. 

The  world  was  sad,  the  garden  was  a  wild, 
And  man,  the  hermit,  sighed  till  woman  smiled. 
—  CAMPBELL. 

"  Here's  to  the  lasses  we've  loved,  my  lad, 
Here's  to  the  lips  we've  pressed; 
For  of  kisses  and  lasses, 
Like  liquor  in  glasses, 
The  last  is  always  the  best!" 


Coasts  to 


It  warms  me,  it  charms  me, 

To  mention  her  name; 
It  heats  me,  it  beats  me, 

And  sets  me  u'on  flame! BURNS. 


"Woman, — she  needs  no  eulogy,  she  speaks 
for  herself!" 

"Here's  to  Woman — once  our  superior,  now 
our  e< 


Here's  health !   And  would  on  earth  there  stood 

Some  more  of  such  a  frame, 
That  life  might  be  all  poetry, 

And  weariness  a  name. 

—  EDWARD  COATE  PINCKNEY. 


"  Come  in  the  evening,  or  come  in  the  morning, 
Come  when  you're  looked  for,  or  come  without 

warning; 
A  thousand  welcomes  you'll  find  here  before 

you  — 
The  oftener  you  come  here,  the  more  we'll  adore 

you."  

"  Here's  to  the  world's  greatest  consolations — 
flowing  wine,  smiling  women!  " 


Coasts  to  ^otnan 


Here's  to  Woman,  the  cause  of  most  tempests 
that  agitate  mankind !  _;>  j  RoussEAU. 


"  Then  drink,  brave  gentlemen,  drink  with  me, 
To  the  beautiful  ladies  of  our  city ; 
A  glass,  a  toast,  a  song  and  a  rhyme 
To  the  dear  little  saints  of  our  golden  time  !" 


Brisk  wine  and  lovely  women  are 

The  source  of  all  our  joys; 
A  bumper  softens  all  our  care, 

And  beauty  never  cloys. 
Then  let  us  drink  and  let  us  love 

While  yet  our  hearts  are  gay ; 
Women  and  wine  we  all  approve 

As  blessing  night  and  day." 


"  Here's  hoping  you  will  live  one  thousand  years; 
Here's  hoping  I  will  live  one  thousand  years  less 

one  day ! 

How  could  I  live  on  that  day 
Knowing  that  you  had  passed  away ! " 


To  earth's  noblest  thing, — a  woman  perfected! 

— JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 


Coasts  to  ^oman 


Woman, — the  true  source  of  all  our  joys !  The 
mother,  the  sister,  the  wife,  the  true,  sympathetic 
friend !  Without  her  the  first  man  found  the  Gar- 
den of  Eden  but  a  desert ;  for  her  kings  have  given 
up  their  thrones,  generals  have  left  their  armies, 
and  the  course  of  empire  has  turned  aside.  When 
she  ceases  to  exist,  the  human  race  will  no  longer 
survive.  She  is  to  man  "  the  rainbow  in  his  storms 
of  life,  the  evening  beam  that  smiles  the  clouds 
away,  and  tints  the  morrow  with  prophetic  ray!" 

— JAMES  A.    COOPER. 

Woman!  be  fair, — we  must  adore  thee! 
Smile,  —  and  a  world  is  weak  before  thee ! 

— TOM  MOORE. 

"  Here's  to  the  gladness  of  her  gladness  when  she's 

glad! 
Here's  to  the  sadness  of  her  sadness  when  she's 

sad! 

But  the  gladness  of  her  gladness 
And  the  sadness  of  her  sadness 
Are  not  in  it  with  her  madness  when  she's  mad ! " 


"  Here's  lovers  two  to  the  maiden  true, 

And  four  to  the  maid  caressing; 
But  the  wayward  girl  with  the  lips  that  curl 
Keeps  twenty  lovers  guessing." 


33 


Coasts  to  ^oman 


Then  remember  whenever  your  goblet  is  crowned, 
To  the  eastward  or  westward,  wherever  you 

roam, 

Whenever  the  health  of  dear  woman  goes  round, 
Remember  the  smiles  that  adorn  her  at  home ! 
— TOM  MOORE. 

"Here's  to  a  good  girl, — 
Not  too  good,  for  the  good  die  young, 
And  we  don't  like  dead  ones ! " 


"After  man  came  woman, — and  she  has  been 
after  him  ever  since." 


When  Eve,  upon  the  first  of  men 

The  apple  pressed  with  specious  cant, 

Oh,  what  a  thousand  pities,  then, 
That  Adam  was  not  Adamant! 

— THOMAS  FLOOD. 

Other  bards  may  sing  of  battle, 
Praising  mosques  and  princes'  worth ; 
But  of  roses,  wine  and  women 
Ever  I  the  same  will  sing! 

BODENSTEDT. 

"  Here's  to  the  Love  that  lies  in  Woman's  eyes, 
And  lies  —  and  lies  —  and  lies!" 


34 


Coasts  to  ^otnan 


-"The  fairest  work   of  the  great  Author;    the 
edition  is  large,  and  no  man  should  be  without  a 


For  let  'em  be  clumsy,  or  let  'em  be  slim, 
Young  or  ancient,  I  care  not  a  feather; 

So  fill  a  pint  bumper  quite  up  to  the  brim, 
And  let  us  e'en  toast  them  together  ! 

—  SHERIDAN. 

"Here's  to  woman,  whom  we  admire  for  her 
beauty,  respect  for  her  intelligence,  adore  for  her 
virtue,  and  love  because  we  can't  help  it!" 


"  Here's  to  woman,  whose  heart  and  whose  soul 
Are  the  light  and  the  life  of  each  spell  we 

pursue ; 
Whether  sunn'd  at  the  tropics  or  chilled  at  the 

pole, 
If  woman  be  there,  there  is  happiness,  too ! 


"  Here's  to  the  prettiest, 
Here's  to  the  wittiest, 
Here's  to  the  truest  of  all  who  are  true; 
Here's  to  the  neatest  one, 
Here's  to  the  sweetest  one, 
Here's  to  them  all  in  one — here's  to  you! 


35 


Coasts  to  i^otnan 


Here's  to  the  girl  that  I  love, 

And  here's  to  the  girl  who  loves  me; 

And  here's  to  all  that  love  her  whom  I  love, 
And  all  those  who  love  her  who  loves  me! 
—  OUIDA. 

A  perfect  woman  likeneth  to  a  fount, 

Whose  clear,  pure  waters  bubble  as  they  mount, 

A  very  revelation  of  the  Lord ! 

BODENSTEDT. 

Methinks  my  rhymes  my  songs  should  grace, 
Like  garments  that  thy  limbs  embrace; 
Fair  tho'  their  folds,  the  silk,  tho'  rare, 
What  it  contains  must  be  more  fair. 

—  BODENSTEDT. 

She  is  so  free,  so  kind,  so  apt,  so  blessed  a  dis- 
P°sition-  -SHAKESPEARE. 

A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned, 
To  warm,  to  comfort  and  command. 

— WORDSWORTH. 

Here's  to  the  woman  who  has  a  smile  for  every 
joy,  a  tear  for  every  sorrow,  a  consolation  for  every 
grief,  an  excuse  for  every  fault,  a  prayer  for  every 
misfortune,  and  encouragement  for  every  hope ! 

—  SAINTE-FOIX. 


Coasts  to  ^otnan 


"  Toasts  of  love  to  the  timid  dove 

Are  always  going  'round ; 
Let  mine  be  heard:    To  the  untamed  bird,- 
And  make  your  glasses  sound." 


Here's  to  the  girl  that's  good  and  sweet, 
Here's  to  the  girl  that's  true; 

Here's  to  the  girl  that  rules  my  heart, — 
In  other  words,  here's  to  you!" 


What's  a  table  richly  spread 
Without  a  woman  at  its  head? " 


For  me,  I'm  woman's  slave  confessed, — 
Without  her,  hopeless  and  unblessed. 

— JAMES  HOGG. 

Drink  to  life  and  the  passing  show, 
And  the  eyes  of  the  prettiest  girl  you  know. 

—  E.   FOREMAN. 

"  Here's  health  to  the  maiden  and  health  to  the 

dame, 

And  health  to  the  gay  little  widow,  the  same; 
May  the  maid  become  dame,  the  dame  widow, 

and  then 
May  the  widow  be  made  to  get  married  again ! " 


37 


Coasts  to  ^ontati 


"  Here's  to  the  tongue  of  woman;  it  never  wears 
out!" 


Here's  to  our  dear  old  mother-in-law, 

With  all  her  freaks  and  capers, 
For  were  it  not  for  dear  old  ma, 

What  would  become  of  the  f  comic  papers'?" 


Here's  to  our  wives,  who  fill  our  lives 

With  little  bees  and  honey ! 
They  break  life's  shocks,  they  mend  our 

socks, — 
But  don't  they  spend  the  money ! " 


Here's  to  our  better  halves, 
Who  reconcile  us  to  our  poorer  quarters ! 

—  F.  M. 


Whoe'er  she  be, 

That  not  impossible  she, 

That  shall  command  my  heart  and  me ! 

—  CRASHAW. 

"To  woman's  love — to  man's  not  akin, 
For  her  heart  is  a  home,  while  his  heart  is  an 
inn!" 


Coasts  to  Ionian 


From  barest  rocks  to  bleakest  shore 

Where  farthest  sail  unfurls, 
That  stars  and  stripes  are  streaming  o'er, — 

God  bless  our  Yankee  girls ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


"  Here's  to  women  who  are  tender, 
Here's  to  women  who  are  slender, 
Here's  to  women  who  are  large  and  fat  and  red ; 
Here's  to  women  who  are  married, 
Here's  to  women  who  have  tarried, 
Here's  to  women  who  are  speechless, — but 
they're  dead!" 


"  Here's  to  woman,  the  source  of  all  our  bliss ; 
There's  a  foretaste  of  heaven  in  her  kiss ; 
But  from  the  queen  upon  her  throne  to  the  maiden 

in  the  dairy, 
They  are  all  alike,  in  one  respect — contrary!" 


Fill  me  with  the  rosy  wine, 
Call  a  toast — a  toast  divine! 
Give  the  poet's  darling  flame, 
Lovely  Jessie  be  the  name, — 
Then  thou  mayest  freely  boast 
Thou  hast  given  a  peerless  toast ! 

—  BURNS. 


39 


Coasts  to 


A  toast,  if  ye  will,  to  a  sweetheart  true, 

And  a  wife  of  faith  undaunted ; 
And  drink  in  the  praise  of  their  fetching  ways, 

To  charms  that  have  long  been  vaunted ; 
And  drink  to  the  eyes  and  drink  to  the  lips, 

Aye,  drink,  and  since  drink  ye  must, 
But  when  ye've  done,  drink,  every  one, 

To  the  girl  the  women  trust ! 

—  N.  G.  BRAUNHART. 


If  to  loveliness  I  could  build  a  shrine 

Where  all  the  world  might  bend  the  knee, 

I'd  but  lend  to  it  a  charm  divine 
By  making  it  a  throne  for  thee ! 

—  I.  H.  KEMPNER. 

Here's  to  the  land  that  gave  me  birth, 

Here's  to  the  flag  she  flies; 
Here's  to  her  sons,  the  best  on  earth, 

Here's  to  her  smiling  skies ; 
Here's  to  a  heart  which  beats  for  me, 

True  as  the  stars  above; 
Here's  to  the  day  when  mine  she'll  be, — 

Here's  to  the  girl  I  love! 

—  FRANK  PIXLEY. 

"  Here's  to  our  wives  and  sweethearts  !  May 
our  sweethearts  become  our  wives,  and  our  wives 
ever  remain  our  sweethearts ! " 


40 


Coasts  to  Ionian 


Drink  to  her  who  long 

Hath  waked  the  poet's  sigh, — 
The  girl  who  gave  to  song 

What  gold  could  never  buy ! 
Oh,  woman's  heart  was  made 

For  minstrel  hands  alone; 
By  other  fingers  played 

It  yields  not  half  the  tone! 
Then  here's  to  her  who  long 

Hath  waked  the  poet's  sigh, — 
The  girl  who  gave  to  song 

What  gold  can  never  buy ! 

At  beauty's  door  of  glass, 

Where  Wealth  and  Wit  once  stood, 
They  asked  her,  "Which  might  pass?" 

She  answered,  "  He  who  could." 
With  golden  key  Wealth  thought 

To  pass — but  'twould  not  do, 
While  Wit  a  diamond  brought 

Which  cut  his  bright  way  through. 
Then  here's  to  her,  etc. 

The  love  that  seeks  a  home 

Where  wealth  and  grandeur  shines, 
Is  like  the  gloomy  gnome 

That  dwells  in  dark  gold  mines. 
But  oh,  the  poet's  love 

Can  boast  a  brighter  sphere; 
Its  native  home's  above, — 

Though  woman  keeps  it  here ! 
Then  drink  to  her,  etc.       — TOM  MOORE. 


Coasts  to  ^oman 


O  woman!    Perfect  woman!    What  distraction 
was  meant  to  mankind  when  thou  wast  made  a  devil ! 

—  BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER. 


Here's  to  woman,  the  Sunday  of  man ! 

MlCHELET. 

Here's  to  the  chaperone ! 

May  she  learn  from  Cupid 
Just  enough  blindness 

To  be  sweetly  stupid ! 

—  OLIVER  HERFORD. 

So  here's  to  thee,  my  gentle  dear, 
And  may  that  eyelid  never  shine 

Beneath  a  darker,  bitterer  tear 

Than  bathes  it  in  this  bowl  of  mine ! 

— TOM  MOORE. 

"Here's  to  the  hostess!  May  she  be  hung, 
drawn  and  quartered!  May  she  be  hung  with  jew- 
els, drawn  in  a  coach  and  four,  and  quartered  in  a 
palace!"  

"  I  drink  to  one,  and  only  one, — 

And  may  that  one  be  he 
Who  loves  but  one,  and  only  one, — 
And  may  that  one  be  me!" 


Coasts  to  S^omatt 


A  wit  should  be  no  more  sincere  than  a  woman 
constant-  -CONGREVE. 

"  She'll  learn  to  smoke  a  cigarette 

And  drink  a  glass  of  wine ; 
She'll  get  a  breakfast,  lunch,  or  tea, 

An  appetite  to  dine; 
She'll  flirt  in  dress  decollete, 

She'll  think  a  kiss  no  sin; 
And  that's  the  kind  of  summer  girl, 

Alas  !  that  seems  to  win." 


Her  voice  was  the  voice  the  stars  had  when  they 
sang  together.  _DANT£  GABRI£L  Ross£TTl> 


"  Now,  boys,  just  a  moment !    You've  all  had  your 

say, 

While  enjoying  yourselves  in  so  pleasant  a  way. 
We've  toasted  our  sweethearts,  our  friends  and 

our  wives, 

We've  toasted  each  other,  wishing  all  merry  lives ; 
'Tis  one  in  a  million,  and  outshines  the  rest; — 
Don't  frown  when  I  tell  you  this  toast  beats  all 

others, — 
But  drink  one  more  toast,  boys,  a  toast  to  '  Our 

Mothers!'" 


43 


Coasts  to 


Mother ! 

c  I  drink  to  one,'  he  said, 

'Whose  image  never  may  depart, — 

Deep-graven  on  this  heart 

Till  memory  be  dead ; 

Whose  love  for  me  shall  longer  last, 

While  lighter  passions  all  have  passed, 

So  holy  'tis  and  true ! 

Whose  love  for  me  hath  longer  dwelt, 

More  firmly  fixed,  more  keenly  felt, 

Than  any  pledged  to  you ! ' 

Each  knight  upstarted  at  the  word, 

And  had  his  hand  upon  his  sword 

With  fury  flashing  eye; 

And  Stanly  cried :  ( We  crave  the  name, 

Proud  knight,  of  that  most  beauteous  dame 

Whose  love  you  hold  so  high/ 

St.  Leon  paused,  as  though 

He  did  not  care  to  breathe  that  name 

In  careless  mood  thus  lightly  to  another; 

Then  bent  his  noble  head 

As  though  to  give  that  name  the  reverence  due, 

And  gently  said,  'My  Mother!'" 


I  have  known  many,  liked  a  few, 
Loved  but  one, — so  here's  to  you! 


Coasts  to  JEati 


Friendship. 

The  daylight  is  gone,  but  before  we  depart, 

One  cup  shall  go  round  to  the  friend  of  my  hearty — 

'The  kindest,  the  dearest,  —  oh,  judge  by  the  tear 

I  now  shed  while  I  name  him,  how  kind  and  how  dear! 

Oh,  say,  is  it  thus  in  the  mirth-bringing  hour, 

W hen  friends  are  assembled,  when  wit,  in  full  flower, 

Shoots  forth  from  the  lip  in  Bacchus' s  dew, 

In  blossoms  of  thought  ever  springing  and  new, — 

Do  you  sometimes  remember  and  hallow  the  brim 
Of  your  cup  with  a  sigh  as  you  crown  it  to  him 
Who  is  lonely  and  sad  in  these  valleys  so  fair, 
And  would  pine  in  Elysium  if  friends  were  not  there? 

— TOM  MOORE. 


45 


Coasts  to  JEan 


We've  drunk  as  much  as  we're  able, 

And  the  cross  swings  low  for  the  morn ; 

Last  toast — and  your  foot  on  the  table  — 
A  health  to  the  Native  born ! 

—  KIPLING. 


May  he  live 

Longer  than  I  have  time  to  tell  his  years! 
Ever  beloved  and  loving  may  his  rule  be; 
And,  when  old  Time  shall  lead  him  to  his  end, 
Goodness  and  he  fill  up  one  monument ! 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

Whereby  discernest  thou  the  fairest  flowers  ? 

By  leaf  and  hue! 
Whereby  discernest  thou  the  purest  wines? 

By  taste — if  true  ! 
Whereby  discernest  thou  the  worthiest  men  ? 

By  What  they  do!  _BODENSTEDT. 


An  honest  man,  close-buttoned  to  the  chin, 
Broadcloth  without  and  a  warm  heart  within. 

COWPER. 

His  heart  was  as  great  as  the  world,  but  there 
was  no  room  in  it  to  hold  the  memory  of  wrong. 

—  EMERSON. 


Coast*  to  Jttatt 


Here's  to  our  bachelors,  created  by  God  for  the 
consolation  of  widows  and  the  hope  of  maidens! 

—  DE  FINOD. 


Why  should  he  talk,  whose  presence  lends  a  grace 
To  every  table  where  he  shows  his  face ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


With  him  who  quaffs  his  pot  of  ale, 
Who  holds  to  all  an  even  scale, 
Who  hates  a  knave  in  each  disguise, 
And  fears  him  not,  whate'er  his  size, — 
With  him  well  pleased  my  days  to  pass, 
May  Heaven  forbid  the  Parting  Glass! 

—  PHILIP  FREEMAN. 


"  Brother  to  a  prince  and  fellow  to  a  beggar  if  he 
be  found  worthy." 

"We  may  live  without  books, — what  is  knowledge 

but  grieving? 
We  may  live  without  hope, — what  is  hope  but 

deceiving  ? 
We  may  live  without  love,  —  what  is  passion  but 

pining?  — 
But  where  is  the  man  who  can  live  without  din- 

ing?" 


47 


Coasts  to  JHan 


Here's  to  the  eyes  that  are  tender  and  gray, 

Here's  to  the  eyes  that  are  blue; 
Here's  to  the  eyes  that  are  black  or  brown 

So  long  as  the  eyes  speak  true ! 
Here's  to  the  eyes  of  the  one  I  love, 

Here's  to  the  one  I  trust, — 
I  do  not  love  him  because  I  will, 

I  love  him  because  I  must. 
Here's  to  the  eyes  that  never  rove 

In  search  of  each  fair,  fresh  face; 
Here's  to  a  man  who  loves  a  maid 

For  her  winsome  ways  and  dainty  grace ! 
Here's  to  the  rarest  thing  on  earth, 

A  pearl  that  hath  no  stain, — 
A  man  who  has  never  been  false  to  his  vows, 

And  the  lips  where  his  own  hath  lain ! 
—  A.  G.  HALES. 

Here's  to  thee,  O  elegant  scholar, — 

To  thy  grace  of  speech  and  thy  skill  in  turning 

phrases, 

Thou  hast  language  for  all  thoughts  and  feelings ! 

—  LONGFELLOW. 

"  Here's  to  that  wise  man — he  who  knows  himself! " 


Let  every  man  be  master  of  his  time  till  seven  at 
ni§ht-  —SHAKESPEARE. 


48 


Coasts  to  jHan 


"  There's  a  beautiful  toast, 
To  a  feminine  host, 

There's  a  swing  to  the  '  Ladies,  God  bless  'em  ! ' 
But  the  women  should  cry, 
With  their  glasses  on  high, 
A  toast  to  the  men  who  dress  'em ! " 


Money  to  him  who  has  spirit  to  use  it, 
And  life  to  him  who  has  courage  to  lose  it ! 


"His  tongue  dropped  manna,  and  could  make 
the  worse  appear  the  better  reason  —  a  bumper  to 
him ! "  

My  teacher  is  Hafiz,  the  tavern  my  church, 
Good  comrades  and  wine  the  extent  of  my  search ! 
Thus,  in  all  merry  circles  in  which  I  arise 
They  praise  and  esteem  me,  and  call  me  —  the  wise. 

BODENSTEDT. 

"  Here's  to  our  friends  in  Heaven, 
Here's  to  our  friends  in  Hell ! 
And  damned  be  the  man  who  kisses  a  girl 
And  will  then  go  round  and  tell ! " 


"  He  stood  four  square  to  all  the  winds  that  blow.1 

49 


Coasts  to  JEan 


And  had  he  failings,  they  would  lean  to  virtue's 
side!  -GOLDSMITH. 

"  Here's  to  the  young  saint  —  old  sinner; 
Here's  to  the  young  sinner — old  saint ! " 


"  Oh,  here's  to  the  good,  and  the  bad  men,  too, 
For  without  them  saints  would  have  nothing  to  do ! 
Oh,  I  love  them  both,  and  I  love  them  well, 
But  which  I  love  better,  I  never  can  tell ! " 


To  man,  who,  by  his  life  alone, 

Gracious  and  sweet,  the  better  way  has  shown! 

— WHITTIER. 

"  Here's  to  the  man  who  loves  his  wife, 

And  loves  his  wife  alone, 
For  many  a  man  loves  another  man's  wife 
When  he  should  be  loving  his  own ! " 


"  Bring  the  white  blossoms  of  the  waning  year; 

Heap  with  full  hands  the  peaceful  conqueror's 

shrine, 

Whose  bloodless  triumphs  cost  no  sufferer's  tear ! 
Hero  of  knowledge,  be  our  tribute  thine!" 


Coasts  to  Jttan 


Here's  to  long  life  and  prosperity!  — 
And  those  that  don't  drink  with  sincerity, 
May  they  be  damned  to  eternity!" 


"To  the  model  husband — always  some  other 
woman's!"  

To  fill  a  bright  cup  with  the  sunlight  that  gushed 
When  the  dead  summer's  jewels  were  trampled  and 

crushed ; 
The  true  Knight  of  Learning, — the  world  holds 

him  dear, — 
Love  bless  him,  joy  crown  him,  God  speed  his 

career !  _  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


God  bless  the  great  Professor, 

And  the  land  his  proud  possessor, — 

Bless  them  now  and  evermore ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES, 


The  friend  of  all  his  race,  God  bless  him ! 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


We  mutually  pledge  to  each  other  our  lives,  our 


fortunes  and  our  sacred  honor ! 


•JEFFERSON. 


Coasts  to  iEan 


"  Who  misses  or  who  wins  the  prize, 
Go,  lose  or  conquer  as  you  can ; 
But  if  you  fail,  or  if  you  rise, 

Be  each,  pray  God,  a  gentleman  ! " 

Here's  to  the  orator  !  for 

There  is  no  true  orator  who  is  not  a  hero ! 

—  EMERSON. 

"  Not  drunk  is  he  who  from  the  floor 
Can  rise  again,  and  drink  some  more; 
But  drunk  is  he  who  prostrate  lies, 
And  who  can  neither  drink  nor  rise." 


"  There  came  to  the  beach  a  poor  exile  from  Erin ; 
The  dew  on  his  wet  robe  hung  heavy  and 

chill. 
Ere  the  steamer  that  brought  him  had  passed  out 

of  hearin', 
He  was  'Alderman  Mike'  introducing  a  bill !  " 

Praise  me  not  too  much,  nor  blame  me,  for  thou 
speakest  to  the  Greeks,  who  know  me. 

—  BRYANT. 

A  gentleman  who  loves  to  hear  himself  talk,  and 
will  speak  more  in  a  minute  than  he  will  stand  to  in 
a  month.  -SHAKESPEARE. 


Coasts  to  JHan 


To  a  Priest. 

Of  all  the  guests  at  life's  perennial  feast, 
Who  of  her  children  sits  above  the  priest  ? 
For  him  the  broidered  robe,  the  carven  seat, 
Pride  at  his  beck,  and  beauty  at  his  feet ; 
For  him  the  incense  fumes,  the  wine  is  poured, 
Himself  a  god,  adoring  and  adored ! 
His  the  first  welcome  when  our  hearts  rejoice, 
His  in  our  dying  ear  the  latest  voice ; 
Font,  altar,  grave,  his  steps  on  all  attend, 
Our  staff,  our  stay,  our  all  but  heavenly  friend ! 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


Truth  from  his  lips  prevailed  with  double  sway, 
And  fools  who  came  to  scoff  remained  to  pray. 

—  GOLDSMITH. 

To  a  Doctor. 

The  best  of  all  the  pill-box  crew, 

Since  ever  time  began, 
Are  the  doctors  who  have  most  to  do 

With  the  health  of  a  healthy  man. 
And  so  I  count  them  up  again, 

And  praise  them  as  I  can : 
There 's  Dr.  Diet, 
And  Dr.  Quiet, 

And  Dr.  Merryman! 

W.    DUFFIELD. 


53 


Coasts  to  JEan 


How  blest  he  is  who  knows  no  meaner  strife 
Than  Art's  long  battle  with  the  foes  of  life ! 
No  doubts  assail  him,  doing  still  his  best, 
And  trusting  kindly  Nature  for  the  rest. 

How  sweet  his  fireside  when  the  day  is  done 
And  cares  have  vanished  with  the  setting  sun ! 
Soft  be  thy  pillow,  servant  of  mankind, 
Lulled  by  an  opiate  Art  could  never  find ; 
Sweet  be  thy  slumber  —  thou  hast  earned  it  well; 
Pleasant  thy  dreams !  —  ( Clang,  goes  the  bell ! ) 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


The  doctors  are  our  friends,  let's  please  them  well, 
For  though  they  kill  but  slow  they  are  certain. 

—  BEAUMONT  AND  FLETCHER. 


Lawyers. 
A  bumper 

To  a  group  of  Wranglers  from  the  bar, 
Suspending  here  their  mimic  war ! 

—  BLOOMFIELD. 

"To  the  humor  of  the  law:    c Quips  and  sen- 
tences, and  paper  bullets  of  the  brain/ ' 

"'Virtue  in  the  middle/  said  the  devil,  as  he 
seated  himself  between  two  lawyers." 


54 


Coasts  to    Han 


Authors. 

"  The  writer's  very  good  health.     May  he  live 
to  be  as  old  as  his  jokes ! " 

He  is  the  richest  author  that  ever  grazed  the 
common  of  literature. 

—  JOHNSON'S  TOAST  TO  DR.  CAMPBELL. 

Here's  to  the  writers:  — 

May  their  thread  be  strong, 
May  their  span  of  life 

Be  full  and  long, 
And  when  at  last 
They  are  summoned  hence, 
May  these  be  their  words  in  self-defense:  — 

The  only  words  they  need  to  say, 

"  I  was  a  writer  in  my  day." 

—  KATHRYN  KENDALL. 

Poets. 

A  guiding  star  thy  heart: 
No  lack  of  light  or  fragrance  where  thou,  glad  poet, 

art !  BODENSTEDT. 

"  When  Nature  made  him,  she  was  in  a  rhyth- 
mical mood,  and  has  been  constant  to  the  last." 

Here's  to  the  artist  with  god-seeing  eyes, 
With  his  feet  on  earth  and  his  head  in  the  skies! 

—  MARY  BELL. 


55 


Coasts  to  JEan 


To  Artemus  Ward. 

This  North  American  has  been  a  inmate  of  my 
'ouse  over  two  weeks,  yit  he  has  n't  made  no  at- 
tempts to  scalp  any  member  of  my  family.  He 
has  n't  broke  no  cups  or  sassers,  or  furniture  of  any 
kind.  (  Hear,  hear.)  I  find  I  can  trust  him  with 
lited  candles.  He  eats  his  wittles  with  a  knife  and 
a  fork.  People  of  this  kind  should  be  encurridged. 
I  purpose  'is  'elth.  (Loud  'plaws.) 

—  FROM  PUNCH,  1866. 

A  health  to  the  man  on  trail  this  night;  may 
his  grub  hold  out ;  may  his  dogs  keep  their  legs ; 
may  his  matches  never  miss  fire. 

—  JACK  LONDON. 

Lincoln. 

Here's  to  ye,  Mr.  Lincoln!     May  you  die  both 

late  and  aisy, 
And  when  you  lie  with  the  top  of  each  toe  turned 

up  to  the  roots  of  the  daisy, 
May  this  be  your  epitaph  nately  writ:  — 
"Tho'  traitors  abused  him  vilely, 
He  was  honest  and  koind,  and  loved  a  joke, 
And  he  pardoned  Miles  O'Riley." 

—  M.  O'R.,  a  Cincinnati  Journalist. 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


Here  s  health  to  you  and  wealth  to  you, 

Honors  and  gifts  a  thousand  strong ; 
Here's  name  to  you  and  fame  to  you, 

Blessing  and  joy  a  whole  life  long! 
But,  lest  bright  Fortune's  star  grow  dim, 

And  sometimes  cease  to  move  to  you, 
I  fill  my  bumper  to  the  brim 

And  pledge  a  lot  of  love  to  you! 

—  NANNIE  B.  TURNER, 


57 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


A  health  for  the  future,  a  sigh  for  the  past, — 
We  love,  we  remember,  we  hope  to  the  last; 
And  for  all  the  bare  lies  that  the  almanacs  hold, 
While  we've    youth   in  our  hearts,  we  can    never 
grow  old.  _  OLIVER  WENDELL  HoLMES. 


Here's  to  friendship — the  shield  that  blunts  the 
darts  of  adversity.  __  MME<  DE  SAINT_SURIN. 


Here's  to  the  debris  of  life's  shipwreck:  Friend- 
ship, glory  and  love !  May  the  shores  of  our  ex- 
istence be  strewn  with  them.  _  MM£>  D£  STA-L> 


Here's  to  the  only  true  language  of  love  : 

'"  —A.   DE  MUSSET. 


Here's  to  love,  the  worker  of  miracles:  He 
strengthens  the  weak  and  weakens  the  strong;  he 
turns  wise  men  into  fools  and  fools  into  wise  men; 
he  feeds  the  passions  and  destroys  reason,  and  plays 
havoc  among  young  and  old  ! 

—  MARGUERITE  DE  VALOIS. 


Here's  to  friendship — Love  without  his  wings. 

—  BYRON. 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


When  love  is  kind,  cheerful  and  free. 
Love's  sure  to  find  welcome  from  me; 
But  when  love  brings  heartache  or  pang, 
Tears  and  such  things,  love  may  go  hang. 
Else  here  I  swear  young  love  may  go, 
For  ought  I  care,  to  Jericho ! 

— TOM  MOORE. 

Here's  a  sigh  for  those  who  love  me, 
And  a  smile  for  those  who  hate ; 

And  whatever  sky 's  above  me, 
Here's  a  heart  for  every  fate. 

— BYRON. 

In  the  desert  a  fountain  is  springing; 

In  the  wide  waste  there  still  is  a  tree, 
And  a  bird  in  the  solitude  singing, 

That  speaks  to  my  spirit  of  thee. 

—  BYRON. 

Here's  to  the  wings  of  friendship  —  may  they 
never  molt  a  feather.  -DICKENS. 


There  are  fools  who  kiss  and  tell ; 

Wisely  hath  the  poet  sung  — 
Man  may  hold  all  sorts  of  posts, 

If  he'll  only  hold  his  tongue. 

—  KIPLING. 


59 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


Give  me  a  spirit  that  on  this  life's  rough  sea 
Loves  to  have  his  sails  filled  with  a  lusty  wind, 
Even  till  his  sail-yards  tremble,  his  masts  crack, 
And  his  rapt  ship  run  on  her  sides  so  low 
That  she  drinks  water  and  her  keel  plows  air. 

—  CHAPMAN. 

I  love  everything  that's  old  —  old  friends,  old 
times,  old  manners,  old  books,  old  wine. 

—  GOLDSMITH. 

Thou  hast  no  sorrow  in  thy  song,  no  winter  in 

thY  7ear-  -LOGAN. 

"  Here's  to  my  friend,  to  whom,  could  I  but 
rise  to  the  starry  realms  above,  I  'd  drink  a  bumper 
from  the  big  dipper." 

"  May  your  soul  be  in  Glory  three  weeks  before 
the  devil  knows  you're  dead." 


Oh,  happy  he  whom  destiny 

Did  from  the  first  design  here, 

That  he  in  mirth  should  walk  the  earth, 
A  friend  to  love  and  wine  here ! 

BODENSTEDT. 


60 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


"  Here's  to  the  friends  we  love  so  well, 

To  those  so  far  away! 
If  a  drink  of  cheer  would  bring  them  here, 
We  would  drink  the  livelong  day." 


Ah,  how  good  it  feels! — the  hand  of  an  old 
friend'  —LONGFELLOW. 

"  Here's  to  the  tears  of  friendship !  May  they 
crystallize  as  they  fall,  and  be  worn  as  bright  jewels 
on  the  bosoms  of  those  we  love ! " 


The  daylight  is  gone,  but  before  we  depart, 
One  cup  shall  go  round  to  the  friend  of  my  heart! 

—  TOM  MOORE. 

"  May  Sincerity  ever  quaff  the  toast  that  Friend- 
ship proposes ! " 

O  magic  of  love !  unembellished  by  you, 
Hath  the  garden  a  bush,  or  the  landscape  a  hue? 
Or  shines  there  a  vista  in  nature  or  art 
Like  that  which  Love  opes  thro*  the  eye  to  the 

heart?  -TOM  MOORE. 

Here's  to  friendship,  the  only  rose  without  thorns ! 

—  MLLE.  DE  SCUDERY. 


61 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


"  We'll  drink  to  Love !  Love,  the  one  irresist- 
ible force  that  annihilates  distance,  caste,  prejudice 
and  principles ;  Love,  the  pastime  of  the  Occident, 
the  passion  of  the  East ;  Love,  that  stealeth  upon 
us  like  a  thief  in  the  night,  robbing  us  of  rest,  but 
bestowing  in  its  place  a  gift  more  precious  than  the 
sweetest  sleep !  Love  is  the  burden  of  my  toast : 
Here's  looking  at  you  !  " 


Let  those  love  now  who  never  loved  before, 
And  those  who  always  loved,  now  love  the  more ! 

—  PARNELL. 

A  health  to  you,  good  friends  of  mine, 

A  plenty  to  you  all ; 
May  each  one  be  at  his  own  house 

When  Fortune  makes  her  call ! 

—  ALONZO  RICE. 

"  Our  absent  friends  !    Although  out  of  sight,  we 
recognize  them  with  our  glasses." 


You  may  think  this  the  merest  lip  service,  my  dear 

(  But  give  me  a  moment  apart) ; 
Though  the  bubbles  tonight  have  gone  to  my  head, 

The  dregs  have  sunk  deep  in  my  heart. 

—  MABEL  CRAFT  DEERING. 


62 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


And  here's  to  them  that,  like  oursel', 

Can  push  about  the  jorum; 

And  here's  to  them  that  wish  us  well, — 

May  a'  that's  gude  watch  o'er  them ; 

And  here's  to  them  we  darna  tell, 

The  dearest  o*  the  quorum!  BURNS. 

To  a  Lost  Love. 

Who  wins  his  love  shall  lose  her; 

Who  loses  her  shall  gain, 
For  still  the  spirit  wooes  her, 

A  soul  without  a  stain, 
And  memory  still  pursues  her 

With  longings  not  in  vain ! 
He  dreams  she  grows  not  older 

The  land  of  dreams  among; 
Though  all  the  world  wax  colder, 

Though  all  the  songs  be  sung, 
In  dreams  doth  he  behold  her 

Still  fair  and  kind  and  young. 

—  ANDREW  LANG. 

While  there's  life  on  the  lip,  while  there's  warmth 

in  the  wine, 
One  deep  health  I'll  pledge,  and  that  health  shall 

bethine!  —OWEN  MEREDITH. 

Fate  gives  us  parents;  choice  gives  us  friends. 

—  DELILLE. 


Coasts  of  Sentiment 


One  cup  in  joy  before  the  banquet  ends, 

One  thought  for  vanished,  for  transfigured  friends; 

Stars  on  the  living  cope  of  heaven  embossed, 
The  heaven  of  love  that  o'er  us  beams  and  bends. 

—  EDMUND  GOSSE. 

Cast  away  wisdom  to  the  wind ! 

One  thing,  but  one  alone,  I  know — 
Love  beat  e'en  Jove,  and  made  him  blind! 

Upon  Love's  revel  we  will  go. 

—  STRATTON. 

Instruct  me  now  what  love  will  do; 
'Twill  make  a  tongueless  man  to  woo. 
Inform  me  next  what  love  will  do; 
'Twill  strangely  make  a  one  of  two. 
Teach  me  besides  what  love  will  do; 
'Twill  quickly  mar,  and  make  ye,  too. 
Tell  me  now,  last,  what  love  will  do ; 
'Twill  hurt  and  heal  a  heart  pierced  through ! 

—  SIR  JOHN  SUCKLING. 


To  Freedom. 

Fold  the  broad  banner-stripes  over  her  breast, — 
Crown  her  with  star-jewels,  Queen  of  the  West! 
Earth  for  her  heritage,  God  for  her  friend, 
She  shall  reign  over  us,  world  without  end ! 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


64 


Bohemian  Days. 

They  are  gone  with  our  dreams,  the  dear  days  of  the 
Past,— 

The  days  of  Bohemia, — of  friendship  as  white 
As  the  foam  of  the  seas  when  they  curl  to  the  blast, 

As  steadfast  and  true  as  the  lanterns  of  night. 

And  voices  are  dumb  that  were  ready  to  jest, 

And  hands  are  now  cold  that  were  warmer  than 
wine; 

And  eyes  that  once  glistened,  and  lips  that  were  pressed, 
Are  missing  this  evening  in  your  lives,  and  mine. 

God  love  her;  God  love  him!    And  oh,  for  the  years 
Unfurled  like  the  leaves  from  the  rose's  red  heart! 

And  oh,  for  the  days  when  we  whistled  at  fears, 
And  dreamed  that  the  glory  would  never  depart  / 

So  rise,  kindred  spirits,  and  be  not  ashamed 

If  a  tear  wet  your  cheeks  as  you  think  of  the  dead; 
And  empty  your  glasses  to  days  that  were  famed, — 
days  of  Bohemia,  —  dear  days  that  are  sped  ! 
— H.  V.   SUTHERLAND. 


To  Bohemia. 

To  a  land  without  a  flag,  without  fleets  and 
armies,  whose  decrees,  emanating  from  a  free  forum, 
are  self-executing,  and  where  the  best  rule ;  a  land 
of  tranquil  peace,  where  love  is  triumphant  over 
death ;  a  land  limited  by  no  language  and  bound  by 
no  barriers,  encompassing  all  who  would  enter  and 
equal  to  the  demands  of  all  who  would  labor;  a 
land  without  tariffs,  of  unrestricted  intercourse  with 
the  universe,  whose  raw  material  is  "airy  nothing," 
and  yet  whose  productiveness  is  proverbial ;  a  land 
whose  population  is  bound  together  by  affection 
and  common  pursuits,  and  whose  only  progeny  is 
the  children  of  the  brain.  Located  far  from  the 
Empire  of  Silence  and  close  to  the  settlement  of 
Utopia,  embracing  in  its  suburbs  the  Republic  of 
Letters,  its  principal  industry  is  the  expression 
of  thought,  and  the  freedom  of  its  people  is  the 
condition  of  their  existence ;  their  incentive  is  fame, 
their  guerdon  is  glory,  and  their  happiness  springs 
from  ennobling  employment  and  the  consciousness 
of  creative  work:  and  this  land  is  called  BOHEMIA! 

— JAMES  D.  PHELAN. 

The  peer  I  don't  envy,  I  give  him  his  bow, 

I  scorn  not  the  peasant,  tho'  ever  so  low; 

But  a  club  of  good  fellows,  like  those  that  are  here, 

And  a  bottle  like  this  I  most  heartily  cheer. 

—  BURNS. 


66 


To  those  who  passed  me  on  the  highway  and 
gave  greeting  and  whom  I  shall  never  meet  again, 
to  the  possible  friends  who  came  my  way  and  whose 
eyes  lingered  as  they  fell  on  mine,  may  they  ever 
be  eager  with  youth  and  strong  with  fellowship, 
may  they  never  miss  a  welcome  or  want  a  comrade. 

—  ANNA  STRUNSKY. 


A  glass  is  good,  a  lass  is  good, 

And  a  pipe  to  smoke  in  cold  weather, 
The  world  is  good  and  the  people  are  good, 

And  we're  all  good  fellows  together. 

—JOHN  O'KEEFE. 


There  are  bonds  of  all  sorts  in  this  world  of  ours, 
Fetters  of  friendship  and  ties  of  flowers, 

And  true  lovers'  knots,  I  ween; 
The  girl  and  the  boy  are  bound  by  a  kiss, 
But  there's  never  a  bond,  old  friend,  like  this, — 

We  have  drunk  from  the  same  canteen. 

—  CHARLES  G.  HALPINE  ("Miles  O'Reilly"). 


"  Here's  a  toast  to  the  toast  that  good-fellowship 

lends 

With  the  sparkle  of  beer  and  of  wine ; 
May  its  sentiment  always  be  deeper,  my  friends, 
Than  the  foam  on  the  top  of  the  stein." 


67 


May  we  never  want  a  friend  nor  a  bottle  to  give 

him! 
When  found,  make  a  note  of.  -DICKENS 


To  the  young,  long  life  and  treasure ; 
To  the  old,  all  health  and  pleasure. 
Let  the  world  slide,  let  the  world  go ; 
A  fig  for  care  and  a  fig  for  woe ; 
If  I  can't  pay,  why,  I  can  owe, — 
And  Death  makes  equal  the  high  and  low. 

—  HEYWOOD. 

Fill  the  bowl  with  rosy  wine! 
Around  our  temples  roses  twine ! 
Like  the  wine  and  roses,  smile. 
Today  is  ours;  what  do  we  fear? 
Today  is  ours;  we  have  it  here. 
Let's  treat  it  kindly  that  it  may 
Wish,  at  least,  with  us  to  stay. 
Let 's  banish  business,  banish  sorrow, 
To  the  gods  belongs  tomorrow. 

—  ANACREON. 

"Now  I,  friend,  drink  to  you,  friend,  as  my 
friend  drank  to  me,  and  I,  friend,  charge  you, 
friend,  as  my  friend  charged  me,  that  you,  friend, 
drink  to  your  friend  as  my  friend  drank  to  me ;  and 
the  more  we  drink  together  the  merrier  we  '11  be." 


68 


Here's  to  us  all!     God  bless  every  one! 

—  DICKENS. 

"  May  your  joys  be  as  deep  as  the  ocean  and 
your  sorrows  as  light  as  its  foam." 


Thou  art  ever  a  favored  guest 

In  every  fair  and  brilliant  throng,— 

No  wit  like  thine  to  make  the  jest, 

No  voice  like  thine  to  breathe  the  song. 

— TOM  MOORE. 

We  came  into  this  world  naked  and  bare, 
We  go  through  this  world  full  of  sorrow  and  care ; 
We  go  out  of  this  world — we  know  not  where — 
But    if    we're    thoroughbreds     here,    we'll    be 
thoroughbreds  there." 


Then  fill  the  bowl — away  with  care, 
Our  joy  shall  always  last, — 

Our  hopes  shall  brighten  days  to  come, 
And  memory  gild  the  past. 

— TOM  MOORE. 

Pour  deep  the  rosy  wine  and  drink  a  toast  with  me : 
Here's  to  the  three : — Thee,  Wine  and  Camaraderie ! 

— TOM  MOORE. 


And  let  the  loving-cup  go  round, 

The  cup  with  blessed  memories  crowned, 

That  flows  whene'er  we  meet,  my  boys ; 
No  draft  will  hold  a  cup  of  sin, 
If  love  is  only  well  stirred  in 

To  keep  it  sound  and  sweet,  my  boys, 
To  keep  it  sound  and  sweet. 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


Here's  to  those  who  wish  us  well, 

And  those  who  don't,  may  go  to Heaven. 

— JAMES  KEENE. 

All  cares  to  the  wind  let  us  merrily  fling, 
For  the  damp,  cold  grave  is  a  dead-sure  thing. 
It's  a  dead-sure  thing  we're  alive  tonight, 
And  the  damp,  cold  grave  is  out  of  sight; 
So  down  with  the  sigh  and  up1  with  the  laugh, 
'Tis  the  health  of  the  gay  and  the  happy,  I  quaff". 

—  ELEANOR  DAVENPORT. 

"A  cheerful  glass,  a  pretty  lass, 
A  friend  sincere  and  true, 
Blooming  health,  good  store  of  wealth, 
Attend  on  me  and  you." 

"  Leave  politics  to  statesmen  and  thinkers, 
But  be  jolly  here  with  merry  drinkers." 


70 


Fill  me,  boys,  as  deep  a  draught 

As  e'er  was  filled,  as  e'er  was  quaffed  ; 

But  let  the  water  amply  flow 

To  cool  the  grapes'  intemperate  glow; 

And  while  the  temperate  bowl  we  wreathe 

In  concert  let  our  voices  breathe, 

Beguiling  every  hour  along 

With  harmony  of  soul  and  song. 

^^  —  TOM  MOORE. 

Though  the  night  must  pass 
And  there  comes,  alas, 

A  world  of  woe  in  the  morning, 
Then  fill  up  your  glasses,  —  the  man's  a  dig 
Who  cares  a  fig 
If  his  head  is  big,  — 

So  what  care  we  so  long  as  we  drink  till  the 

-CAROLUSACER. 


"Here's  to  lieing,  stealing,  swearing,  drinking! 
If  you  must  lie,  lie  for  a  pretty  woman. 
If  you  must  steal,  steal  away  from  bad  company. 
If  you  must  swear,  swear  by  your  friends  and  they 

will  swear  by  you;  and 
If  you  must  drink,  drink  with  me!" 


I  drink  to  the  general  joy  of  the  whole  table! 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 


I  do  confess,  in  many  a  sigh, 
My  lips  have  breathed  you  many  a  lie; 
And  who,  with  such  delights  in  view, 
Would  lose  them,  for  a  lie  or  two? 

— TOM  MOORE. 

"  Here's  to  thee  and  thy  folks ! 
May  they  love  me  and  my  folks 
As  much  as  me  and  my  folks 
Love  thee  and  thy  folks; 
For  there  never  were  folks, 
Since  folks  were  folks, 
That  loved  folks 
As  well  as  me  and  my  folks 
Love  thee  and  thy  folks." 

In  all  thy  humors,  whether  grave  or  mellow, 
Thou  'rt  a  touchy,  testy,  pleasant  fellow ; 
Hast  so  much  wit  and  mirth  and  spleen  about  thee, 
There  is  no  living  with  thee,  nor  without  thee. 

— ADDISON. 

"  Here's  rest  for  the  weary, — 

In  peace  rest  his  soul; 
Good  luck  to  the  wanderer 
Who's  lost  the  keyhole!" 


Drink  down  ah  unkindness.       —SHAKESPEARE 


72 


Here's  to  luck,  and  hoping  God  will  take  a  likin' 
tous!  —COWBOY,  DAKOTA. 

One  bumper  at  parting !     Though  many 

Have  circled  the  board  since  we  met, 
The  fullest,  the  saddest  of  any 

Remains  to  be  crowned  by  us  yet. 
The  sweetness  that  pleasure  has  in  it 

Is  always  so  slow  to  come  forth 
That  seldom,  alas !  till  the  minute 

It  dies,  do  we  know  half  its  worth! 
But  oh,  may  our  life's  happy  measure 

Be  all  of  such  moments  made  up ; 
They're  born  on  the  bosom  of  pleasure, 

They  die  in  the  tears  of  the  cup ! 

—  BYRON. 

And  do  as  adversaries  do  in  law, — 

Strive  mightily,  but  eat  and  drink  as  friends ! 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 

Come,  old  fellow,  drink  down  to  your  peg, 
But  do  not  drink  any  further,  I  beg! 

—  LONGFELLOW. 

Now,  one  other  health:  — 
To  our  grand  patron  called  Good-fellowship, 
Whose  livery  all  our  people  hereabout  are  clad  in ! 

—  DEKKAR  AND  FORD. 


73 


Whilst  we  together  jovial  sit, 
Careless  and  crowned  with  mirth  and  wit, 
We'll  think  of  all  the  friends  we  know, 
And  drink  to  all  worth  drinking  to ! 

—  CHARLES  COTTON. 

Joy,  gentle  friends !    Joy  and  fresh  days  of  love 
accompany  your  hearts !  -SHAKESPEARE. 


We'll  drink  to  the  friends  who  wish  us  well, 
So  fill  to  the  brim  and  toast  'em; 

And  if  there  be  those  who  wish  us  ill, — 
Why,  now  is  the  time  to  roast  'em ! 

—  GRACE  LUCE  IRWIN. 


"  Fill  to  him,  to  the  brim ! 

Round  the  table  let  it  roll. 
The  divine  says  that  wine 

Cheers  the  body  and  the  soul.' 


74 


Coasts  to  States 


California. 

How  she  sits  like  a  queen  beside  the  beau- 
tiful  sunset  sea  !  How  grand  her  place,  how 
glorious  her  destiny ;  ribbed  round  by  solemn, 
guardian  mountains,  the  fines  are  her  ever- 
lasting sentinels;  strange,  beautiful  flowers 
interwoven  make  her  diadem ;  her  scepter  is 
virgin  gold,  her  canopy  a  cloudless  sky:  an 
empire  complete  in  herself!  Were  she,  in  a 
moment,  rent  from  the  continent  and  made 
an  island  of  the  sea,  still  everything  to  make 
a  nation  great  would  be  found,  either  devel- 
oped, or  a  living  germ  in  her  sustaining 
breast.  How  proud  she  sits,  her  Golden 
Gate  swung  backward  for  the  worlds  great 
ships  to  enter;  her  mighty  land-locked  bay, 
at  rest,  an  anchorage  where  the  whole  world's 
ships  might  ridel  'That  bay,  beautiful  at 
first,  and  now  with  a  glory  a  thousand  times 
enhanced  by  that  city  that  came,  at  the  touch 
of  Midas,  and  unfolded  its  glittering  splen- 
dor on  the  still  bays  sandy  shore  ! 

—  FROM  THE  OLD  Pah-Utah  (a  paper 
published  in  Nevada  many  years  ago). 


75 


Coasts  to  States 


To  California. 

Where  Earth  is  here  so  kind  that  just  tickle  her 
with  a  hoe  and  she  laughs  with  a  harvest! 

— JARROD. 

To  Kentucky. 

"  Kentucky,  O  Kentucky !    I  love  thy  classic 

shades, 
Where  flit  the  fairy  figures  of  dark-eyed  Southern 

maids, 
Where  the  mocking-birds  are  singing,  mid  flowers 

newly  born, 
Where  the  corn  is  full  of  kernels  and  the  Colonels 

full  of  corn!"        

To  New  England. 

Where  Hubbard  squash  and  huckleberries  grow  to 

powerful  size, 
And  everything  is  orthodox,  from  preachers  down 

t0Pies!  -EUGENE  FIELD. 

To  Vermont. 

"  What  State  can  beat  her  men,  women,  maple-sugar 

and  horses  ? 

The  first  are  strong,  the  last  are  fleet, 
The  second  and  third  are  exceedingly  sweet, 
And  all  are  uncommonly  hard  to  beat !  " 


76 


Coasts  to  States 


The  Sunny  Southern  States. 

There's  Virginia  and  Georgia  and  all  the  rest 

Of  those  sunny  Southern  parts ; 
There's  something  fine,  in  their  bloom  and  clime, 

That  cheers  our  Northern  hearts. 
So  a  bumper  fill  to  the  genial  group, 

And  we'll  drink  a  health  to  their  souls ; 
And  whenever  our  steps  do  southward  stray, 

May  we  halt  at  their  julep  bowls ! 

—A.  I.  W. 

To  Rhode  Island. 

There's  Minnesota's  Gopher, 

And  Texas'  Lonely  Star, 
And  California's  Golden  Bear, 

All  famed  both  near  and  far; 
But  'tis  not  to  these  I  pledge, 

Though  all  are  good,  I  trow, — 
I  toast  old  Roger  Williams'  Farm, — 

It's  called  Rhode  Island  now! 

—A.  I.  W. 

To  Illinois. 

Here's  a  health  to  the  boys, 
Men,  maidens  and  matrons  of  fair  Illinois, 
And  the  rainbow  of  friendship  that  arches  its  span, 
From  the  green  of  the  sea  to  the  blue  Michigan ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


77 


Coasts  to  States 


To  Pennsylvania. 

In  Union,  a  State  second  only  to  the  State  of 
matrimony.  Land  of  the  many  rivers — of  the 
stately  Susquehanna,  the  blue  Juniata,  the  graceful 
Schuylkill,  the  historic  Delaware,  and  the  Monon- 
gahela  and  Alleghany,  wedded  to  the  Ohio ;  land  of 
sylvan  beauty,  of  mineral  wealth,  of  the  lordly  Coal 
Baron  and  the  gentle  Quaker.  Rich  in  agricultural 
products,  rich  in  commercial  influence,  rich  in  moun- 
tain scenery,  but  richer  still  in  the  possession  of  a 
bell  consecrated  and  anointed  by  the  hand  of  Lib- 
erty,— the  bell  which  rang  forth  "the  sweetest 
story  ever  told!"  _JOHN  HuNT. 


To  the  West. 

Here's  to  the  West!  —  that  ever  hears 
The  thunder  of  an  uncurbed  sea 
Hymning  its  song  of  Liberty. 

Here's  to  the  West! — that  knows  the  thoughts 

Of  stately  pine  and  silent  peak, 

That  bend  and  brood,  but  never  speak. 

Here's  to  the  West! — that  reads  the  stars 
And  knows  God's  holy  promise  when 
Time  strikes  for  us  the  hour.     Amen ! 

—  HOWARD  V.  SUTHERLAND. 


Coasts  to  States 


To  San  Francisco. 

Our  city, 
Once,  oh,  so  fast, 
Now  quite  good  caste, — 

A  pity!  -HARRIET  LEVY. 


May  the  winds  waft  the  wealth  of  all  nations  to  thee, 
And  thy  dividends  flow  like  the  waves  of  the  sea ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


America  and  England  !     May  they  never  have 
any  division  but  the  Atlantic  between  them ! 

—  DICKENS. 


79 


Coasts  to  Rulers 


"To  the  President— God  bless  him! 


We  like  the  man,  we  like  the  strong,  generous 
man, — what  I  may  call  the  real,  human  man ! 
—  LORD  BERKS  FORD'S  TOAST  TO  PRESIDENT  ROOSEVELT. 


"  May  he  always  merit  the  esteem  and  affection 
of  a  people — ever  ready  to  bestow  gratitude  on 
those  who  deserve  it." 


'Tis  an  office  of  great  work,  and  you  an  officer  fit 

for  the  place.  -SHAKESPEARE. 

To  a  Sovereign. 

'Ere's  to  the  'ealth  o'  your  Royal  'Ighness,  hand 
may  the  skin  o'  ha  gooseberry  be  big  enough  for 
han  humbrella  to  cover  hup  hall  your  henemies ! 
—  CADDY'S  TOAST  IN 


"  To  the  rulers  of  every  land !     God  bless  and 
guide  them  ever!" 


80 


Coasts  to 


To  Columbia. 

Columbia,  Columbia,  to  glory  arise, 
The  queen  of  the  world  and  child  of  the  skies ! 

— TIMOTHY  DWIGHT. 

"  The  poets  sing  of  sunny  France, 

Fair  olive-ladened  Spain, 
The  Grecian  Isles — Italia's  smiles, 

And  India's  torrid  plain, 
Of  Egypt,  countless  ages  old — 

Dark  Afric's  palms  and  dates, 
Let  me  acclaim  the  land  I  name, 

My  own  United  States." 


America — half-brother   of    the    world! — with 
something  good  and  bad  of  every  land. 

—  PHILIP  BAYLEY. 

"America  forever !     The  land,  boys,  we  live  in ! " 


"  Here's  to  our  native  land!     May  we  live  and 
die  in  it."  

"  May  the  joys  of  our  country  be  as  pure  as 
its  air  of  freedom,  and  its  virtues  be  as  firm  as  its 


mountains." 


81 


Coasts  to  jEatfons 


"  May  there  be  no  North,  no  South,  no  East, 
no  West,  but  only  one  broad,  beautiful  land ! " 


May  the  British  Lion  have  his  talons  eradicated 
by  the  noble  bill  of  the  American  Eagle,  and  be 
taught  to  play  upon  the  Irish  Harp  and  the  Scotch 
Fiddle  that  music  which  is  breathed  by  every  empty 
shell  that  lies  upon  the  shores  of  green  Columbia. 

—  DICKENS. 

Let  Independence  be  our  boast, 
Ever  mindful  what  it  cost; 
Ever  grateful  for  the  prize, 
Let  its  altar  reach  the  skies. 

J.   HOPKINSON. 

One  flag,  one  land,  one  heart,  one  hand,  one 
nation  evermore !  _OUVER  WBNDELL  H(JLMBS> 


Our  country!  In  her  intercourse  with  foreign 
nations,  may  she  always  be  in  the  right — but  our 
country,  right  or  wrong.  _STEPHEN  DECATUR. 


It  is  my  living  sentiment,  and  by  the  blessing 
of  God  it  shall  be  my  dying  sentiment, —  Independ- 
ence now  and  Independence  forever! 

—  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


82 


Coasts  to 


To  Our  National  Birds. 

"The    American    Eagle    and    the    Thanksgiving 

Turkey : 

May  one  give  us  peace  in  all  our  States, 
And  the  other  a  piece  for  all  our  plates." 


To  Great  Britain. 

Britain's  myriad  voices  call, 

Sons,  be  welded,  each  and  all 

Into  one  imperial  whole; 

One  with  Britain  heart  and  soul, 

One  fleet,  one  flag,  one  life,  one  throne  — 

Britons,  hold  your  own!         __TENNYSON. 


To   England. 

Now,  island  Empress,  wave  thy  crest  on  high, 
And  bid  the  banner  of  thy  Patron  flow, 

Gallant  St.  George,  the  flower  of  Chivalry, 
For  thou  hast  faced  like  him  a  dragon  foe, 
And  rescued  innocence  from  overthrow, 

And  trampled  down  like  him,  tyrannic  might, 
And  to  the  gazing  world  mayst  proudly  show 

The  chosen  emblem  of  thy  sainted  knight, 

Who  quell'd  devouring  pride,  and  vindicated  right ! 

—  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


Coasts  to  Jtattons 


To  Scotland. 

Wherever  I  wander,  wherever  I  rove, 
The  hills  of  the  Highlands  forever  I  love ! 

—  BURNS. 

We  toast  ye,  the  nicht,  the  hill  and  the  heather, 
The  lad  o'  the  bonnet,  the  plaid  and  the  feather, 
The  land  o'  the  mountain,  the  stream  and  the  river, 
The  land  o'  our  ancestors,  Scotland  forever ! 

—  G.  W.  MCLAREN. 

O  Scotia!  my  dear,  my  native  soil! 

For  whom  my  warmest  wish  to  heaven  is  sent ! 
Long  may  thy  hardy  sons  of  rustic  toil 

Be  blest  with  health,  and  peace,  and  sweet  content. 

— BURNS. 

To  Ireland. 

Wert  thou  all  that  I  wish  thee : 
Great,  glorious  and  free, 
First  flower  of  the  earth, 
And  first  gem  of  the  sea ! 

—  TOM  MOORE. 

<c  Here's  to  the  land  of  the  Shamrock  so  green, 
Here's  to  each  lad  and  his  darling  colleen, 
Here's  to  the  ones  we  love  dearest  and  most — 
And  may  God  save  old  Ireland! 

That's  an  Irishman's  toast." 


Coasts  to  Rations 


To  Russia. 

Fires  of  the  North,  in  eternal  communion, 

Blend  your  broad  flashes  with  evening's  bright 

star! 

God  bless  the  Empire  that  loves  the  Great  Union ; 
Strength  to  her  people !    Long  life  to  the  Czar ! 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


Our  country,  our  whole  country,  and  nothing 
but  our  country !  _DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


To  the   English-speaking  Races. 

The  founders  of  commonwealths,  pioneers  of 
progress,  stubborn  defenders  of  liberty — may  they 
ever  work  together  for  the  world's  welfare ! 

—  GEORGE  W.  CURTIS. 


Coasts  to  <£ur  jfiag 


Flag  of  the  heroes  who  left  us  their  glory, 

Borne  through  their  battle-field's  thunder  and 

flame, 

Blazoned  in  song  and  illumined  in  story. 
Wave  o'er  us  all  who  inherit  their  fame ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


The  union  of  lakes,  the  union  of  lands, 
The  union  of  states  none  can  sever; 

The  union  of  hearts,  the  union  of  hands, 
And  the  flag  of  our  Union  forever ! 

___^  — J.  P.  MORRIS. 

A  song  for  our  banner !  the  watchword  recall 
Which  gave  the  Republic  her  station :  — 

"  United  we  stand,  divided  we  fall !  " 
It  made  and  preserves  us  a  Nation. 

— J.  P.  MORRIS. 

May  tne  rose  of  England  fairer  blow, 

May  Scotia's  thistle  taller  grow; 

May  the  harp  of  Erin  sweeter  play, 

While  the  Stars  and  Stripes  shall  hold  their  sway ! " 


Then  hail  the  banner  of  the  free, 
The  starry  flower  of  liberty ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


86 


Coasts  to  $ur  jflag 


As  memory  turns  the  pages 

And  recalls  the  glorious  past, 
With  its  heroes  and  its  sages 

And  the  luster  that  they  cast, 
We  will  drink  to  grand  "  Old  Glory" 

In  the  wine  of  other  days, 
And  recount  the  wondrous  story, 

The  songs  of  honest  praise. 

—  FOUR.  TRACK  NEWS. 


Flag  of  the  free-heart's  hope  and  home, 
By  angel  hands  to  valor  given ; 

Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome, 

And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven ! 
— JOSEPH  RODMAN  DRAKE. 


One  great  modern  Republic — the  home  of  a 
new  cosmopolitan  race!  May  those  who  seek  the 
blessings  of  its  free  institutions  and  the  protection 
of  its  Flag  remember  the  obligations  they  impose ! 

—  U.  S.  GRANT. 


Coasts  to  8rnt|>  ana 


Both  great  in  courage,  conduct  and  in  fame, 
Yet  neither  envious  of  the  other's  praise ; 

Their  duty,  faith  and  interest,  too,  the  same, 
Like  mighty  partners  equally  they  raise ! 

—  DRYDEN. 

"  The  wine-cup,  the  wine-cup  bring  hither,  — 

A  toast !  glasses  full  to  the  brim  ! 
May  the  wreath  they  have  worn  never  wither, 

Nor  the  stars  of  their  glory  grow  dim ; 
May  our  soldiers  and  sailors  ne'er  sever, 

United  'neath  colors  so  true ; 
Here's  to  the  Army  and  Navy  forever! 

Three  cheers  for  the  red,  white  and  blue  !  " 


Success  to  our  army,  success  to  our  fleet; 
May  our  foes  be  compelled  to  bow  down  at  our 
feet ! " 


Here's  to  the  Army  and  Navy ! 

May  they  never  want — and  never  be  wanted  !  " 


To  Three  Great  Commanders. 

"  May  we  always  be  under  the  orders  of  Gen- 
eral Peace,  General  Plenty  and  General  Prosperity ! " 


88 


"Here's  to  our  brave  soldiers,  ever  victorious! 
May  they  in  time  of  peace  always  find  shelter  in  a 
loving  heart! " 


Stand  to  your  glasses  steady, 

And  drink  to  your  comrade's  eyes; 
Here's  a  cup  to  the  dead  already, 

And  hurrah  for  the  next  that  dies!" 


Honor  and  reverence,  and  the  good  repute 
That  follows  faithful  service  as  its  fruit, 
Be  unto  him  whom,  living,  we  salute. 

—  LONGFELLOW. 


Under  the  sod  and  the  dew, 
Waiting  the  Judgment  day; 

Love  and  tears  for  the  blue, 
Tears  and  love  for  the  gray. 

—  FRANCIS  M.  FINCH. 


And  now  I  have  liv'd — I  know  not  how  long, 

And  still  I  can  join  in  a  cup  or  a  song; 

But  whilst  with  both  hands  I  can  hold  the  glass 

steady, 
Here's  to  thee,  my  hero,  my  sodger  laddie! 

—  BURNS. 


89 


Coasts  to  grntp 


"  Their  arms  our  sure  defense, 
Our  arms,  their  recompense. 
Fall  in!" 


To  the  Navy. 

Here's  to  the  ships  of  our  Navy, 
Here's  to  the  ladies  of  our  land ; 

May  the  first  be  ever  well  rigged 
And  the  latter  ever  well  manned ! 

— ALGERNON  S.  SULLIVAN. 


"  May  it  ever  sail  on  a  sea  of  Glory,  be  wafted 
by  the  winds  of  Prosperity,  be  guided  by  the  com- 
pass of  Justice,  and  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Vic- 
tory!" 

Here's  to  the  Cause,  let  who  will  get  the  glory ! 
Here's  to  the  Cause,  and  a  fig  for  the  story ! 
The  braggarts  may  tell  it,  who  serve  but  for  fame ; 
There'll  be  more  than  enough  that  will  die  for  the 

Name! 

And  though,  in  some  eddy,  our  vessels,  unsteady, 
Be  stranded  and  wrecked,  ere  the  victory's  won, 
Let  the  current  sweep  by  us !    O  death !    come  and 

try  us! 
What   if  laggards  win    praise,  if  the    Cause   shall 

go  on  ?  _  GELETT  BURGESS. 


90 


Coasts  to  8rtnp  ana  jEatop 


To  An  Admiral. 

Now  smiling  friends  and  shipmates  all, 

Since  half  our  battle's  won, 
A  broadside  for  our  Admiral ! 

Load  every  crystal  gun ! 
Stand  ready  till  I  give  the  word, — 

You  won't  have  time  to  tire, — 
And  when  that  glorious  name  is  heard, 

Then  hip !  hurrah !  and  fire ! 

***** 

Now,  then,  the  broadside !     Cheer  on  cheer 

To  greet  him  safe  on  shore ! 
Health,  peace,  and  many  a  bloodless  year 

To  fight  his  battles  o'er ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


"Our  Navy!  May  it  always  be  as  anxious  to 
preserve  peace  as  to  uphold  the  honor  of  the  flag 
in  war ! " 


Coasts  to  tf)e  8rts 


To  Painting  and  Poetry. 

Here's  to  painting,  for  "painting  is  silent  poetry"; 
And  here's  to  poetry,  for  "poetry  is  painting  with 
the  gift  of  speech"!  _SIMONIDES. 


Here's  to  poetry,  the  eldest  sister  of  all  arts,  and 
parent  of  most!  -CONGREVE. 

Seraphs  share  with  thee  knowledge,  but  Art,  O 
Man,  is  thine  alone !  _  ScHILLER> 


Art  is  an  absolute  mistress ;  she  will  not  be 
coquetted  with  or  slighted;  she  requires  the  most 
entire  self-devotion,  and  she  repays  with  grand  tri- 
umphs. -CHARLOTTE  CUSHMAN. 


The  soul  of  music  slumbers  in  the  shell, 
Till  waked  and  kindled  by  the  master's  spell; 
And  feeling  hearts  —  touch  them  but  rightly — 

pour 
A  thousand  melodies  unheard  before. 

—  ROGERS. 

All  the  many  sounds  of  nature  borrowed  sweet- 
ness from  his  singing.  -LONGFELLOW. 


Coasts  to  t£e 


Music  the  fiercest  grief  can  charm, 

And  Fate's  severest  rage  disarm ; 

Music  can  soften  pain  to  ease, 

And  make  despair  and  madness  please ; 

Our  joys  below  it  can  improve, 

And  antedate  the  bliss  above!        _POPE 

"  Here's  to  you,  Richard  Wagner, 

With  your  horns  and  your  bassoons ; 
What  a  hit  you'd  made  in  music 
Had  you  only  tackled  tunes!" 

Music,  thou  queen  of  heaven,  care-charming  spell, 
Thou  strik'st  a  silence  into  hell ; 
Thou  that  tam'st  tigers  and  fierce  storms  that  rise, 
With  thy  soul-melting  lullabies ! 

—  HERRICK. 

Music!   oh,  how  faint,  how  weak 
Language  fades  before  thy  spell! 

Why  should  Language  ever  speak 

When  thou  canst  breathe  her  soul  so  well  ? 

—  TOM  MOORE. 

Of  all  the  arts  beneath  the  heaven 
That  man  has  found  or  God  has  given, 
None  draws  the  soul  so  sweet  away 
As  music's  melting,  mystic  lay. 

—  JAMES  HOGG. 


93 


Coasts  to  tije  arts 


Music,  that  gentler  on  the  spirit  lies 
Than  tired  eyelids  upon  tired  eyes; 

Music,  that  brings  sweet  sleep 
Down  from  the  blissful  skies  ! 

—  TENNYSON. 

Let  no  saucy  fiddler  presume  to  intrude 
Unless  he  is  sent  for  to  vary  our  bliss ; 

With  mirth,  wit  and  dancing  and  singing  conclude 
To  regale  every  sense  with  delight  in  excess. 

—  BEN  JONSON. 

Benefits  of  Art-Study:    gifts  of  the  soul  alone 
defy  decay!  _LouisE  BENSON. 


94 


n  n  t 


We  kiss  the  cup  that  in  love 
Tells  of  saddest  parting  moment  near; 
We  kiss  the  cup  and  bid  God-speed 
To  those  we  hold  in  heart  most  dear. 
For  the  hand  of  Time  has  the  lass  and  the  man. 
And  leads  them  away  on  his  well-known  plany 
To  freshen  their  lives  in  the  Land  of  Love 
With  the  dew  of  Hope  and  the  coo  of  dove y  — 
Drinky  Time,  thou  good  old  man  ! 

Join  in  the  cup9  the  love-filled  cup 
Of  those  who  sit  in  circle  here; 
Join  in  the  cup,  and  bid  it  brim 
With  all  in  Life  that  most  holds  cheer; 
Thy  handy  old  Time,  has  the  lass  and  the  many 
They  have  chosen  well  thy  well-known  plan 
To  lead  them  away  to  the  Land  of  Love. 
Guard  them  with  every  shield  from  above  > — 
'Drinky  Timey  thou  good  old  man  ! 

—  CHARLES  MC!LVAINE. 


95 


nn  tto  er sat t  eg 


Here's  to  the  happy  man: — All  the  world  loves 
a  loven  -EMERSON. 

Ye  met,  your  souls  seemed  all  in  one, 
Like  tapers  that  commingling  shone; 
Thy  heart  was  warm  enough  for  both, 
And — hers  in  truth  was  nothing  loth. 

— TOM  MOORE. 


"  May  those  who  enter  the  rosy  paths  of  matri- 
mony never  meet  with  thorns." 


"  Here's  to  the  bride  and  mother-in-law, 
Here's  to  the  groom  and  father-in-law, 
Here's  to  the  sister  and  brother-in-law, 
Here's  to  friends  and  friends-in-law, 
May  none  of  them  need  an  attorney-at-law ! 


Love  is  the  only  good  in  the  world.  Hence- 
forth be  loved  as  heart  can  love,  or  brain  devise,  or 
hand  approve.  _  RoBERT  BROWNING. 


'•  Here's  to  the  bride  that  is  to  be, 
Happy  and  smiling  and  fair, 
And  here's  to  those  who  would  like  to  be, 
And  are  wondering  when,  and  where." 


96 


nnttoersaries 


"The  greatest  blessing    Heaven   can  send — a 
good  wife." 

"  There  was  never  a  daughter  of  Eve  but  once,  ere 

the  tale  of  her  years  be  done, 
Shall  know  the  scent  of  the  Eden  Rose,  but  once 

beneath  the  sun! 
Though  the  years  may  bring  her  joy  or  pain,  fame, 

sorrow  or  sacrifice — 
The  hour  that  brought  her  the  scent  of  the  Rose 

she  lived  it  in  Paradise ! " 


Here's  to  matrimony — the  high  sea  for  which 
no  compass  has  yet  been  invented. 

—  H.  HEINE. 


Thou  hast  no  faults,  or  I  no  faults  can  spy, 
Thou  art  all  beauty,  or  all  blindness  I. 

CODRINGTON. 

Peace  be  around  thee,  wherever  thou  rovest, 
May  life  be  for  thee  one  summer's  day; 

And  all  that  thou  wishest,  and  all  that  thou  loves t, 
Come  smiling  around  thy  sunny  way. 

— TOM  MOORE. 

"  May  all  single  men  be  married  and  all  married 
men  be  happy." 


97 


"To  marriage:  The  happy  state  which  re- 
sembles a  pair  of  shears;  so  joined  that  they 
cannot  be  separated;  often  moving  in  opposite 
directions,  yet  always  punishing  any  one  who  comes 
between  them." 

In  life's  delight,  in  death's  dismay, 
In  storm  and  sunshine,  night  and  day, 
In  health,  in  sickness,  in  decay, 
Here  and  hereafter  I  am  thine. 

— LONGFELLOW. 

Fill  high  the  cup  with  liquid  flame, 
And  speak  my  Hebiodora's  name; 
Repeat  its  magic  o'er  and  o'er, 
And  let  the  sound  my  lips  adore 
Live  in  the  breeze,  till  every  tone, 
And  word  and  breath  speaks  her  alone. 

— TOM  MOORE. 

"To  the  have-beens — the  are-nows — and  the 
may-bes." 

There  swims  no  goose  so  gray,  but  soon  or  late 
She  finds  some  honest  gander  for  her  mate. 
—  POPE. 

When  I  said  I  should  die  a  bachelor, 
I  did  not  think  I  should  live  till  I  were  married. 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 


98 


e  r sa  r  t  e 


Men  dying  make  their  will — but  wives 

Escape  a  work  so  sad ; 
Why  should  they  make  what  all  their  lives 

The  gentle  dames  have  had ! 

—  J.   G.   SAXE. 

To   the  Wife. 

Time  still,  as  he  flies,  brings  increase  to  her  truth, 
And  gives  to  her  mind  what  he  steals  from  her 

y°uth-  -TOM  MOORE. 

Here's  to  the  happy  groom,  who  came,  saw — and 

won! 
Here's  to  the  blushing  bride  who  surrendered  to 

love's  fierce  onslaught!  —  N    ST    G 


I  asked  a  maiden  for  her  hand, — 
She  answered  me  in  accents  bland, 

'Go  to  Pa-pa/ 

And  when  I  learned  that  he  was  dead, 
And  of  the  life  that  he  had  led, 
I  knew  the  meaning  when  she  said, 

'Goto  Pa-pa!'" 


"  Maids  and  bachelors  married,  and  soon  so, 
Wives  and  husbands  happy,  and  long  so ! " 


99 


at  its 


"You  can  multiply  all  the  relations  of  life, 
Have  more  than  one  sister  or  brother, 
In  the  course  of  events  have  more  than  one  wife, 
But  you  never  can  have  but  one  mother." 

Bear  through  sorrow,  wrong  and  ruth, 
In  thy  heart  the  dew  of  youth, 
On  thy  lips  the  smile  of  truth ! 
May  thy  smile  like  sunshine  dart 
Into  many  a  sunless  heart ! 

_____  —  LONGFELLOW. 

The    sweetest   thing   that   ever   grew  beside  a 
human  door!  -WORDSWORTH. 

A  gentle  voice  and  ceaseless  mirth 
Is  what  God  gave  thee  at  thy  birth. 

_____  BODENSTEDT. 

Let  him  live  to  be  a  hundred !  We  want  him  on 
eartn!  -OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


Birthday  Toast. 

God  grant  you  many  and  happy  years, 
Till,  when  the  last  has  crowned  you, 

The  dawn  of  endless  days  appears, 
And  heaven  is  shining  round  you ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


100 


ers  art 


Baby's  Toast. 

Here's  to  me!  —  mamma's  pet  and  pop's  boast,- 
To  my  solos  at  night,  which  they  roast! 

Here's  to  my  little  pug  nose 

And  my  ten  curly  toes! 
How's  that  for  a  little  "  Milk  Toast"? 

—  FROM  LIFE. 

A  Christmas  Versicle. 

A  little  Boy  of  Heavenly  Birth, 
But  far  from  home  today, 

Comes  down  to  find  his  Ball,  the  Earth, 
That  Sin  has  cast  away. 

O  comrades,  let  us  one  and  all 

Join  in  to  get  Him  back  his  Ball! 

—  REV.  JOHN  B.  TABB. 


Old  Yule  Carol. 

"  Welcome  be  thou,  Heavenly  King, 
Welcome  born  on  this  morning ; 
Welcome  for  whom  we  shall  sing, 
Welcome  Yule! 

"  Welcome  be  ye  that  are  here, 
Welcome  all  and  make  good  cheer; 
Welcome  all  another  year! 
Welcome  Yule!" 


101 


sa 


"  Come,  friends,  let  us  fill  our  glasses, 
For  a  health  to  the  lads  and  a  health  to  the  lasses ; 
Let  none  dare  be  grave, — life's  a  time  to  be  gay, 
And  with  drinking  let's  send  the  old  year  on  its 
way! 

"  Good  friends,  now  the  season  is  ripe  for  bright 

gladness ; 
There's  time  for  all  mirth,  but  there's  no  time  for 

sadness ; 

We've  no  use  for  sighs,  'tis  of  smiles  we  have  need, 
So  with  drinking  we'll  give  the  old  year  a  c  God- 
speed ! ' 

"  Then  we'll  drink  to  all  the  world  below 

And  all  the  Gods  above; 
And  with  our  deepest  draught 

We'll  pledge  the  little  God  of  Love. 
Our  souls  will  glow  with  fellowship, 

Our  hearts  warm  with  good  cheer, 
And  drinking  we  will  welcome  in 

The  jolly  young  New  Year!" 


102 


toast  you  a  toast  that  is  less  than  a  toast, 
For  a  toast  that  is  toasted  is  more  like  a  "  roast  "; 
A  "roast"  is  a  grilling)  unleavened  by  wine, 
While  a  "toast"  is  the  vintage  of  good-will  divine. 
"  A  plague  upon  Discord — to  Unity  drink!" 
Is  a  toast,  but  sarcastic,  perhaps  you  may  think? 
A  grill,  now,  or  pledge — which  appeals  to  you  most? 
Ah,  the  frail  California's  choice  is  a  "roast"  I 
Then  here's  to  the  sunshine — that's  all  in  the  air! 
And  here's  to  the  loving  embrace — of  the  bear! 
Ambitions  dissever,  elation  estranges, — 
Then  here's  to  the  man  who  opposes  all  changes! 
Who  loftily  soars,  pull  him  down,  tho'  a  brother, 
For  how  can  we  part  when  we  love  one  another? 

— JAMES  D.   PHELAN. 


103 


tscellanea 


To  Happy  Days  Gone   By. 

Happy  the  man,  and  happy  he  alone,  who  can  call 

today  his  own — 
He,  who,  secure  within,  can  say — "Tomorrow  do 

thy  worst,  for  I  have  lived  today." 
Be  foul  or  fair,  be  rain  or  shine,  the  joys  I  have 

possessed 
In   spite   of  fate,  are    mine!     Not    Heaven  itself 

upon  the  past  has  power, 
And  what  has  been, —  has  been,  and  I  have  had  my 

hour-  -HORACE. 

Come!  fill  to  joyous  years 

This  crystal  clear  and  fine;  — 
The  morn  may  fill  with  tears 

What  now  we  fill  with  wine. 
Forgetting,  then,  the  morrow, 

Let  us  be  glad  today, — 
Regretting  not  the  sorrow, 

Joy  for  its  joy  must  pay ; 
Lift  high  the  gleaming  glass, 

Love  be  its  liquid  gem, 
And  the  draught  whose  kiss  shall  pass 

Our  lips — be  pure  with  them! 

—  HERMAN  SCHEFFAUER. 


"To  knowledge,  trie  wing  wherewith  we  fly  to 
Heaven!" 


104 


I  1  a  n  e  a 


Come,  no  more  of  grief  and  dying ! 
Sing  the  time  too  swiftly  flying ! 

Just  an  hour, 

Youth's  in  flower, 
Give  me  roses  to  remember 
In  the  shadow  of  December. 

—  MRS.  W.  L.  WOODS. 


"To    success,  which  can  strike  its  roots  deep 
only  through  soil  enriched  by  countless  failures ! " 


Laugh  at  all  things,  great  and  small  things, 

Sick  or  well,  at  sea  or  shore ; 
While  we're  quaffing,  let's  have  laughing, 

Who  the  Devil  cares  for  more! 

— BYRON. 

A  pipe,  a  book,  a  fire,  a  friend, 

A  stein  that's  always  full. 
Here's  to  the  joys  of  a  bachelor's  life, 

A  life  that  is  never  dull ! 

—  ESTELLE  FOREMAN. 

A  health ! 

And  here  let  Time  hold  still  his  restless  glass, 
That  not  another  golden  sand  may  fall 
To  measure  how  it  passeth. 

—  DEKKAR.  AND  FORD. 


105 


tscellanea 


A  toast  to  Dan  Cupid,  the  great  evil-doer, 
A  merciless  rogue — may  his  darts  ne'er  grow  fewer. 

—  ESTELLE  FOREMAN. 

To   Patriotism. 

The  whole  wide  ether  is  the  eagle's  way; 
The  whole  earth  is  a  brave  man's  fatherland. 

—  EURIPIDES. 

"  Here's  to  the  noblest,  thankful  hearts  that  take 

The  bread  of  pain,  the  bitter  cup  of  woe, 
And  dare  to  feel  content,  for  old  joy's  sake, 

Among  the  thorns  where  roses  used  to  blow." 


"To  Home,  the  place  where  we  are  treated  best, 
and  grumble  most." 

"  Oh,  do  not  despise  the  advice  of  the  wise, 

Learn  wisdom  from  those  who  are  older, 
And  don't   try  for  things  that  are  out  of  your 

reach  — 
An'  that's  what  the  Girl  told  the  Soldier! " 


"Here's    to    Hell!     May  we  have  as  good  a 
time  there  as  we  had  getting  there." 


1 06 


tscellanea 


If  I  were  king — ah,  love,  if  I  were  king, 
What  tributary  nations  would  I  bring 
To  stoop  before  your  sceptre  and  to  swear 
Allegiance  to  your  lips  and  eyes  and  hair ! 
Beneath  your  feet  what  treasures  I  would  fling:  — 
The  stars  should  be  your  pearls  upon  a  string, 
The  world  a  ruby  for  your  finger-ring, 
And  you  should  have  the  sun  and  moon  to  wear, 
If  I  were  king. 

Let  these  wild  dreams  and  wilder  words  take  wing, 
Deep  in  the  woods  I  hear  a  shepherd  sing, 
A  simple  ballad  to  a  sylvan  air, 
Of  love  that  ever  finds  your  face  more  fair, 
I  could  not  give  you  any  godlier  thing, 
If  I  were  king. 

— J.  H.  MCCARTHY. 


When    the    black    lettered   list    to    the    Gods  was 

presented, 

The  list  that  Fate  for  each  mortal  intends, 
At  a  long  list  of  ills  a  kind  Goddess  relented, 

And  slipped  in  three  blessings :    Wife,  Children 
and  Friends.  _W-  R>  Sp£NCER> 


You  can  make  fools  of  wits,  we  find  each  hour; 
But  to  make  wits  of  fools  is  past  your  power. 

—  DRYDEN. 


107 


t  s  c  e  1 1  a  n  e  a 


You  may  prate  of  the  virtue  of  memory, 
Of  the  days  and  joys  that  are  past, 

But  here's  to  a  good  forgettery, 

And  a  friendship  that  cannot  last ! 

You  may  talk  of  a  woman's  constancy, 
And  the  love  that  can  never  die, 

But  here's  health  to  a  woman's  coquetry, 
And  the  pleasure  of  saying  "  Good-bye" ! 
— AN  AUTOGRAPH  TOAST  AT  THE  WAYSIDE  INN. 


Instead  of  a  song,  boys,  I'll  give  you  a  toast — 
Here's  the  memory  of  those  on  the  twelfth  that  we 

lost!  — 
That  we  lost,  did  I  say?  nay,  by  heaven,  that  we 

found ; 
For  their  fame  it  shall   last  while  the  world  goes 

round. 

The  next,  in  succession,  I'll  give  you — The  King! 
Whoe  'er  would  betray  him,  on  high  may  he  swing ! 
And  here's  the  grand  fabric,  our  free  Constitution, 
As  built  on  the  base  of  the  great  Revolution; 
And  longer  with  politics  not  to  be  cramm'd, 
Be  Anarchy  cursed,  and  be  Tyranny  damn'd, 
And  who  would  to  Liberty  e'er  prove  disloyal, 
May  his  son  be  a  hangman,  and  he  his  first  trial. 
—  ROBERT  BURNS  (in  honor  of  the  anniversary 

of  Rodney's  great  victory  of  the  izth  of 

April,  1782). 


108 


tscellanea 


"  Knock  and  the  world  knocks  with  you, 

Boast  and  you  boast  alone; 
That  bad  old  earth  is  a  foe  to  mirth, 

And  has  a  hammer  as  large  as  your  own. 
Buy  and  the  gang  will  answer, 

Sponge  and  they  stand  and  sneer; 
The  revelers  joined  to  a  joyous  sound 

And  shout  for  refusing  beer. 
Be  rich  and  the  men  will  seek  you, 

Poor — and  they  turn  and  go  — 
You  're  a  mighty  good  fellow  when  you  are  mellow, 

And  your  pockets  are  lined  with  dough. 

"  Be  flush  and  your  friends  are  many, 

Go  broke  and  you  lose  them  all; 
You  're  a  dandy  old  sport  at  #4.00  a  quart, 

But  not  if  you  chance  to  fall. 
Praise  and  the  cheers  are  many, 

Beef,  and  the  world  goes  by, 
Be  smooth  and  slick  and  the  gang  will  stick 

As  close  as  a  hungry  fly. 
There  is  always  a  crowd  to  help  you 

A  copious  draught  to  drain, 
When  the  gang  is  gone  you  must  bear  alone 

The  harrowing  stroke  of  pain." 


Here's  to  the  journey  of  Life — and  may  you 
never  miss  the  train  of  kindly  thought. 

—A.  I.  W. 


109 


tgcellanea 


"  Here's  to  love  and  unity, 
Dark  corners  and  opportunity ! " 


Here's  to  the  friends  we  can  trust, 

When  the  storms  of  adversity  blaw; 
May  they  live   in   our   song  and    be    nearest  our 

hearts, 
Nor  depart  like  the  year  that's  awa'. 

—  OLD  SCOTCH  SONG. 


Irish  Toast. 

"  Here  is  that  ye  may  never  die  nor  be  kilt  till 
ye  break  your  bones  over  a  bushel  o'  glory." 


To  Pipes  and  'Baccy. 

Drink  with  me,  lads,  and  fill  your  glasses  high ! 

Drink  to  Pan's  pipe  and  its  melodious  strain 
That  draws  all  cares  forth  with  one  throbbing  sigh, 

And  empties  every  heart  of  every  pain. 

Drink  to  our  own  dear  pipes — of  cob  and  clay, 
Upon  whose  stems  we  breathe  in  dreamy  need, 

And  live,  once  more,  a  blessed  bygone  day, 

Drawing,  like  Pan,  sweet  harmony  from  the  weed. 

—  LOUISE  HERRICK  WALL. 


no 


tscellanea 


"To  the  chef, — good  friend,  whose  versant 
touch  and  artful  hand  have  keened  my  zest  for 
gastronomic  lore."  

To  a   Club. 

While  yet  the  night  is  fresh  and  young, 

With  glow  of  early  hours ; 
While  yet  a  thirst  is  on  the  tongue, 

And  a  bloom  is  on  the  flowers, 
Come  fill  your  glass  with  wine  that  gleams 

As  bright  as  stars  above ; 
And  while  the  generous  bumper  streams 

We  '11  toast  the  club  we  love ! 

— JOHN  MCNAUGHT. 

There 's  many  a  toast  I  'd  like  to  say, 

If  I  could  only  think  it; 
So  fill  your  glass  to  Anything 

And  thank  the  Lord,  I  '11  drink  it ! 

—  WALLACE  IRWIN. 

To  Home. 

"A  world  of  strife  shut  out,  and  a  world  of  love 
shut  in."  

"  May  we  have  the  wit  to  discover  what  is  true 
and  the  fortitude  to  practice  what  is  good." 


in 


t  $  c  e  I  I  a  n  e  a 


To  Failure. 

Here's  to  the  joker  who  can't  take  ajoke, 
Here's  to  the  oaf  who  can't  see  one; 
Here's  to  the  smile  that  hides  the  bright  tear, 
To  the  courage  that  cowards  oft  lean  on — 
Then  let's  drink  to  Failure, 

Whatever  its  guise, 
For  beneath  its  dark  color 

Success  often  lies. 

MlLLICENT  COSGRAVE. 


Here's  to  the  old  general  and  the  old  coquette! 
May  both  continue  to  remember  their  conquests  and 
to  forget  their  other  engagements. 

—  F.  R.  WALL. 

To  One-and-Twenty. 

Oh !  talk  not  to  me  of  a  name  great  in  story, 
The  days  of  our  youth  are  the  days  of  our  glory; 
And  the  myrtle  and  ivy  of  sweet  one-and-twenty 
Are  worth  all  your  laurels,  though  ever  so  plenty ! 

—  BYRON. 

Here's  a  health  in  homely  rhyme, 
To  our  oldest  classmate,  Father  Time; 
May  our  last  survivor  live  to  be 
As  bald  and  as  wise  and  as  tough  as  he ! 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


I  12 


tfitellanea 


"  Here's  to  old  Omar  Khayyam  — 

I'm  stuck  on  that  beggar — I  am! 
His  women  and  wine  are  something  divine — 
For  his  verses  I  don't  care  a  damn ! " 


To  Home. 

"The  father's  kingdom;  the  child's  paradise; 
the  mother's  world." 

Here's  to  tomorrow,  that  Father  Confessor  of 
days  that  makes  possible  the  sins  of  tonight. 

—  CAROLUS  ACER. 

To  Law. 

Of  Law  there  can  be  no  less  acknowledger 
than  that  her  seat  is  in  the  bosom  of  God  —  her 
voice  the  harmony  of  the  world.  All  things  in 
heaven  and  on  earth  do  her  homage, —  the  very  last 
as  fully  her  care  and  the  greatest  as  not  exempt  from 
her  power.  -RICHARD  HOOKER. 

To  Gasteria,  the  tenth  muse,  who  presides  over 
the  enjoyments  of  Taste.  _BRILLAT-SAVARIN. 


"  God  sends  meat  and  the  devil  sends  cooks.3 


iscellanea 


Serenely  full,  the  epicure  would  say : 
Fate  cannot  harm  me,  I  have  dined  today. 
— SIDNEY  SMITH. 

Better  beams  without  stars 

Than  stars  that  don't  shine ; 
Better  wine  without  jars 

Than  jars  without  wine; 
Better  gold  without  purse 

Than  purse  without  gold ; 
Better  sense  without  verse 

Than  rhym'd  nonsense,  I  hold! 

BODENSTEDT. 

Old  English. 

In  the  olde  time, 
When  Beefe,  Bread  and  Beere 
Was  honest  man's  cheere, 
And  welcome  and  spare  not; 
And  John  and  his  Joane 
Did  live  of  their  owne 
Full  merrily! 

—  COBBE'S  PROPHECIES, 
His  SIGNS  AND  TOKENS —  1614. 


Whom  no  friend  was  giv'n  on  earth, 
He  is,  by  heaven,  no  friendly  greeting  worth ! 

—  BODENSTEDT. 


114 


iscellanea 


Sir,  respect  your  dinner ;  idolize  it,  enjoy  it 
properly.  You  will  be  many  hours  in  the  week, 
many  weeks  in  the  year,  and  many  years  in  your 
life  the  happier  if  you  do  !  -THACKERAY. 


As  for  that,  pass  the  bottle  and  hang  the  expense; 
I've  seen  it  observed  by  a  writer  of  sense 
That  the  labouring  classes  could  scarce  live  a  day 
If  people  like  us  did  n't  eat,  drink,  and  pay. 
So  useful  it  is  to  have  money,  heigh-ho, 
So  useful  it  is  to  have  money! 
One  ought  to  be  grateful,  I  quite  apprehend, 
Having  dinner  and  supper  and  plenty  to  spend; 
And  so,  suppose  now,  while  the  things  go  away, 
By  way  of  a  grace  we  all  stand  up  and  say, 
"How  pleasant  it  is  to  have  money,  heigh-ho, 
How  pleasant  it  is  to  have  money!" 

— A.  H.  CLOUGH. 

To  the  Mince  Pye — called  King  of  Gates, — 
Sovereign  of  Gates,  all  hail!     Nor  then  refuse 
This  cordial  offering  from  an  English  Muse, 
Who  pours  the  brandy  in  libation  free, 
And  finds  plum  pudding  realized  in  thee ! 

—  WILLIAM  HONE. 

"  Here's  to  the  whole  world,  for  fear  some  fool 
will  be  sore  because  he's  left  out !  " 


tscelianea 


Fair  art  thou,  Tiflis,  on  Gyro's  green  shore ! 

Fair  art  thy  sons  and  thy  daughters  to  me ! 

Fount  of  my  agony,  fount  of  my  glee, 
Home  of  my  lov'd  one,  what  need'st  thou  be  more  ? 

My  cup  is  o'erflowing,  I  drink  but  to  thee ! 

BODENSTEDT. 


To  Youth. 

C{  Only  possessed  fully  by  those  who  have  passed 
beyond  it." 

Prepare  for  mirth,  for  mirth  becomes  a  feast. 

—  PERICLES. 

To  Law. 

"  Fond  of  doctors,  little  health, 
Fond  of  lawyers,  little  wealth." 


May  the  work  that  you  have 
Be  the  play  that  you  love! 

— E.  GEBERDING. 

CA  dinner,  coffee  and  cigars, 

Of  friends  a  half  a  score, 
Each  favorite  vintage  in  its  turn, — 

What  man  could  wish  for  more  ?  " 


116 


1 1  a  n  e  a 


"  Here's  to  the  smoke  that  curls  in  the  air, 

Here's  to  the  dog  at  my  feet ; 
Here's  to  the  girls  that  have  gone  before, 
Gad  !  but  their  kisses  were  sweet !  " 


My  Treasure. 

Let  those  who  never  pay  their  score 

Drink  pledges  to  the  golden  morrow, 
And  others  whom  reflections  bore 
Exalt  today  in  joy  or  sorrow  ; 
I'd  rather  drink  to  joy  I  store, 

Which  neither  God  nor  man  can  borrow ! 
Nothing  can  last 
Except  the  past. 

For  those  who  live  in  future  bliss, 

Each  hour  depletes  their  golden  treasure ; 
The  sand-glass  hints  what  he  would  miss 

Who  strives  to  hold  a  fleeting  pleasure. 
Naught  but  the  past  is  ours,  and  this 
Each  day  becomes  a  richer  treasure. 
Hand  round  the  wine,  — 
The  past  is  mine ! 

—  EDNAH  ROBINSON. 

"  May  all  your  pain  be  sham  pain, 
And  all  your  champagne  real !  " 


117 


li  an 


And  whether  we  live  or  whether  we  die 
(For  the  end  is  past  our  knowing), 
Here's  two  frank  hearts  and  the  open  sky, 
Be  a  fair  or  an  ill  wind  blowing ! 

Here's  luck! 
In  the  teeth  of  all  winds  blowing! 

—  RICHARD  HOVEY. 

"  May  we  kiss  whom  we  please 
And  please  whom  we  kiss." 


Here's  to 

The  bright  black  eye,  the  melting  blue — 
I  cannot  choose  between  the  two ! 

—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


"  The  Lord  gave  teeth  to  men,  that  they  might  eat, 
And  then,  to  use  them  on,  he  gave  us  meat; 
But  here's  a  health  to  that  great  man  who  took 
And  brought  the  two  together — to  the  Cook!  " 


Here's  to 

A  life  with  tranquil  comfort  blest, 
The  young  man's  health,  the  rich  man's  plenty, 
All  earth  can  give  that  earth  has  best, 
And  heaven  at  four-score  years  and  twenty ! 
—  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES. 


118 


tscellanea 


A  garland  for  the  hero's  crest. 

And  twined  by  her  he  loves  the  best; 

To  every  lovely  lady  bright, 

What  can  I  wish  but  faithful  knight? 

To  every  faithful  lover,  too, 

What  can  I  wish  but  lady  true? 

—  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 


Let's  drink  to  the  future,  "  lighted  for  us  with 
the  radiant  colors  of  hope" !  —JOHN  FISKE. 


Not  the  laurel  —  but  the  race, 
Not  the  quarry — but  the  chase; 
Not  the  dice — but  the  play 
May  I,  Lord,  enjoy  alway!" 


"  God  grant  us  good,  whether  or  not  we  pray, 
But  e'en  from  praying  souls  keep  bad  away." 


To  Wealth. 

Gold !  of  all  welcome  blessings  thou  Jrt  the  best ! 
For  never  had  a  mother's  smile  for  men, 
Nor  son,  nor  father  dear,  such  perfect  charm 
As  thou,  and  they  who  hold  thee  for  their  guest. 

—  EURIPIDES. 


119 


i  s  t  t  I  I  a  n  e  a 


To  Virtue. 

Virtue,  to  men  thou  bringest  care  and  toil ; 
Yet  art  thou  life's  best,  fairest  spoil. 

— ARISTOTLE. 

To    Health. 

"  Health !     Eldest,  most  august  of  all 
The  blessed  gods,  on  thee  I  call ! 
Oh,  let  me  spend  with  thee  the  rest 
Of  mortal  life,  securely  blest ! " 


To   Life. 

Ah,  lives  of  men !     When  prosperous  they  glitter 

Like  a  fair  picture;  when  misfortune  comes 

A  wet  sponge  at  one  blow  has  blurred  the  painting. 

AESCHYLUS. 

"Twin-brother  of  its   deadly  foe — and  truest 
friend— Death!"  

Though  we  eat  little  flesh  and  drink  no  wine, 
Yet  let's  be  merry;  we'll  have  tea  and  toast; 
Custards  for  supper,  and  an  endless  host 
Of  syllabubs  and  jellies  and  mince  pies, 
And  other  such  ladylike  luxuries. 

—  SHELLEY. 


120 


t  a  c  e  I  I  a  n  e  a 


Here's  to  the  Freshman,  all  verdant  and  gay, 

Here's  to  the  Soph  and  his  folly, 
Here's  to  the  Senior,  afraid  of  next  May, 
And  here's  to  the  Union,  so  jolly; 
Let  the  toast  pass, 
Drink  to  the  class, — 
Her  glory  shall  be  our  excuse  for  the  glass. 

Here's  to  the  class  that  is  leader  in  all — 

Long  may  she  prosper  and  thrive,  boys ! 
Then  fill  up  your  glasses  and  drink  to  my  call, 
The  glory  of  old  ninety-five,  boys; 
Let  the  toast  pass, 
Drink  to  the  class, — 
Her  glory  shall  be  our  excuse  for  the  glass. 

—  CAROLUS  ACER. 


Here's  a  turkey  when  you  are  hungry, 
Champagne  when  you  are  dry, 

A  pretty  girl,  when  you're  lonely, 
And  heaven  when  you  die !  " 


Fill  a  glass  with  golden  wine, 

And  the  while  your  lips  are  wet, 

Set  their  perfume  upon  mine  and  forget 

Every  kiss  we  take  or  give 

Leaves  us  less  of  life  to  live. 

—  HENLEY. 


121 


t  s  t  t  I  I  a  n  e  a 


"  Here's  to  the  year  that's  awa', 
We'll  drink  it  in  strong  and  in  sma', 
And  here's  to  the  bonny  young  lassie  in  love 
While  swift  flew  the  year  that's  awa'." 


Let's  live  in  haste ;  use  pleasures  while  we  may : 
Could  life  return,  'twould  never  lose  a  day. 

—  HERRICK. 

"Here's  to  the  stein — ''Tis  not  so  wide  as  a 
church  door  nor  so  deep  as  a  well,  but  'twill  serve!' " 


In  his  own  home  let  each  man  stay, 
And  freely  live  in  his  own  way ! 
But  I  of  love  what  I  love  will  sing, 
Where  ev'ry  day  new  themes  doth  bring. 
And  while  they  rise  where'er  I  gaze, 

What  need  have  I  to  tire  me, 
Seeking  in  midst  of  bygone  days 

For  matter  to  inspire  me  ? 

BODENSTEDT. 

"  Some  hae  meat  and  canna'  eat, 

And  some  wad  eat  who  want  it ; 
But  we  hae  meat  and  we  can  eat, 
So  let  the  Lord  be  thankit." 


122 


t  s  c  t  I  I  a  n  t  a 


Know,  ye  sons  of  melancholy, 

To  be  young  and  wise  is  folly ! 

*         *       *       *       *       * 

While  you  scorn  our  names  unspoken, 
Roses  dead  and  follies  broken, 

Oh,  ye  wise, 

We  arise, 

Out  of  failures,  dreams,  disasters, 
We  arise  to  be  your  masters ! 

MRS.  W.  L.  WOODS. 

I  would  applaud  thee  to  the  very  echo 
That  should  applaud  again. 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 


The  Newspapers !  Sir,  they  are  the  most  vil- 
lainous, licentious,  abominable,  infernal — not  that 
I  ever  read  them — no,  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to 
look  into  a  newspaper !  -SHERIDAN. 


"Here's  to  Life's  three  blessings:     Wife,  chil- 
dren, and  friends ! " 


Let  not  fortune  e'er  thy  mistress, 
Let  not  sorrow  e'er  thy  maid  be. 

BODENSTEDT. 


123 


fscellattea 


Enjoy  the  Spring  of  Love  and  Youth, 
To  some  good  Angel  leave  the  rest, 

The  time  will  teach  you  soon  enough 

There  are  no  birds  in  the  last  year's  nest. 

—  HERRICK. 


Snatch  gaily  the  joys  which  the  moment  shall  bring, 
And  away  every  care  and  perplexity  fling. 

—  HORACE. 


A  mother-in-law  has  the  name  and  repute 

Of  whims  and  of  temper  and  a  love  for  dispute ; 

She  is  roundly  abused  and  maliciously  slandered, 

An  innocent  victim,  most  unjustly  bantered. 

This  is  all  wrong,  and  defying  objection, 

I  hold  she's  a  woman  of  heart  and  affection. 

So  here's  to  the  mother  of  our  husband  or  wife — 

God  bless  her  and  give  her  good  health  and  long  life ! 


Blest  be  those  feasts,  with  simple  plenty  crown'd, 

Where  all  the  ruddy  family  around 

Laugh  at  the  jests  or  pranks,  that  never  fail, 

Or  sigh  with  pity  at  some  mournful  tale, 

Or  press  the  bashful  stranger  to  his  food 

And  learn  the  luxury  of  doing  good ! 

—  GOLDSMITH, 


124 


t  s  c  c  I  I  a  n  e  a 


Ship  me  somewhere  east  of  Suez, 
Where  the  best  is  like  the  worst ; 

Where  there  are  n't  no  ten  commandments, 
And  a  man  can  raise  a  thirst. 

—  KIPLING. 

I  've  drunk  sheer  madness !    Not  with  wine, 
But  old  fantastic  tales! — I'll  arm 

My  heart  in  heedlessness  divine, 

And  dare  the  road  nor  dream  of  harm ! 

—  MELEAGER. 

"  Blest  health  !     Yea,  Beauty's  year 

Breaks  into  spring  for  thee,  for  only  thee ! 
Without  thee  no  man's  life  is  aught  but  cold  and 
drear." 

May  liberty  meet  wi'  success  ! 

May  prudence  protect  her  frae  evil ! 
May  tyrants  and  tyranny  tine  in  the  mist, 

And  wander  their  way  to  the  devil. 

—  BURNS. 

Youth,    that    sweetest   souvenir  of   Aphrodite 
throned  in  joy.  _PINDAR> 


125 


Jforetgn  Congues 


Latin. 

Quisquis  amat  valeat,  pereat  qui  nescit  amare; 
Bis  tan  to  pereat  quisquis  amare  vetat." 


*    *    *     Sapias,  vina  liques,  et  spatio  brevi 
Spem  longam  reseces.    Dum  loquimur  fugerit  invida 
carpe  diem  quam  minimum  credula  postero. 

—  HORACE. 


"  Gaudeamus  igitur,  juvenes  dum  sumus  ; 
Post  jucundam  juventutem,  post  molestam 

senectutem 
Nos  habebit  humus. 

"  Vivat  academia,  vivant  professores, 
Vivat  membrum  quodlibet,  vivant  membra 

quaelibet, 
Semper  sint  in  flore. 

"Vivant  omnes  virgines  faciles,  formosae! 
Vivant  et  mulieres,  tenerae,  amabiles, 
Bonae  laboriosae. 

"  Vivat  et  respublica  et  qui  illam  regit, 
Vivat  nostra  ci vitas,  Maecenatum  caritas, 
Quae  nos  hie  protegit." 


126 


^foreign  Congues 


French. 

Tout  pour  les  dames, 
Beaucoup  pour  mes  amis 
Peu  pour  moi !  " 


Heureux  qui  ne  veut  rien  tenter! 
Heureux  qui  suit  ce  qu'il  doit  suivre! 
Heureux  qui  ne  vit  que  pour  vivre, 
Qui  ne  chante  que  pour  chanter. 

— VICTOR  HUGO. 

CA  toi,  peintre,  le  monde  !  a  toi,  poete,  1  'ame ! 
A  tous  deux  le  seigneur  !  " 

"Ah  !    Ah !  verse  encore,  vidons  1  'amphore 
Qu  'un  flot  divin  de  ce  vieux  vin, 
Calme  la  soif  qui  me  devore, 
Le  vin  est  un  tresor  divin." 


Aimer  le  vrai,  le  beau,  chercher  leur  harmonic ; 
Ecouter  dans  son  coeur  1  'echo  de  son  genie ; 
Chanter,  rire,  pleurer,  seul,  sans  but,  au  hasard, 
D  'un  sourire,  d  'un  mot,  d  'un  soupir,  d  'un  regard 
Faire  un  travail  exquis,  plein  de  crainte  et  de  charme, 
Faire  une  perle  d  'une  larme : 
Du  poete  ici-bas  voila  la  passion, 
Voila  son  bien,  sa  vie  et  son  ambition. 

A.    DE  MUSSET. 


127 


fti  ^foreign  Congues 


Jouissons,  jouissons  de  la  douce  journee, 
Et  ne  la  troublous,  pas  cette  heure  fortunee. 

— JOSEPH  DE"LORME. 

Enfant,  si  j'etais  roi,  je  donnerais  1' empire 

Et  mon  char,  et  mon  sceptre,  et  mon  peuple  a 

genoux, 

Et  mes  flottes  a  qui  la  mer  ne  peut  suffire, 
Pour  un  regard  de  vous ! 

Si  j'etais  Dieu,  la  terre  et  1'air  avec  les  ondes, 
Les  anges,  les  demons  courbes  devant  ma  loi, 
Et  le  profond  chaos  aux  entrailles  fecondes, 
L'eternite,  Tespace,  et  les  cieux  et  les  mondes, 
Pour  un  baiser  de  toi ! 

—VICTOR  HUGO. 

Les  mots  sont  faits  pour  ce  qu'on  trouve  aimable, 
JLes  regards  seuls  pour  ce  qu'on  voit  charmant. 

— BERANGER. 

Le  bonheur  tient  au  savoir  vivre: 
De  Tabus  naissent  les  degouts,* 
Trop  a  la  fois  nous  enivre ; 
II  faut  boire  a  petits  coups. 

Amis,  le  bon  vin  que  le  notre ! 
Et  la  sante  quel  bien  pour  tous ! 
Pour  menager  Tun  et  Tautre, 
II  faut  boire  a  petits  coups. 

—  BERANGER. 


128 


fn  foreign  Congueg 


Italian. 

Non  dalle  coppe  il  vin:  dagli  occhi,  amore 
Tu  mi  versa,  gentil  Ebe  novella : 
E,  Ganimede  a  te,  in  umile  favella 

Ripeterb  baciando  :  eccoti  il  core  ! 

—  L.  D.  VENTURA. 


Viva  Bacco !   Evviva  Amore  ! 
Bevo  ed  amo  a  tutte  1  'ore. 
Se  la  bimba  dice :     No  ! 
Cheto,  cheto  allor  mi  sto ; 
Ma  se  poi  dicesse :    Si ! 
Non  mi  muovo  piu  di  li. 
Viva  dunque  le  bambine, 
Le  vezzose  civettine, 
Che  se  ridono  al  mio  dire 
Pur  vorrebbero  gioire ; 
Ed  un  viva  per  voi  pure 
Provocanti  creature 
Che  alle  smanie,  lai  e  pianti, 
Sol  contanti  scintillanti 
Preferite,  e  con  smorfiette 
II  mio  core,  a  fette  a  fette, 
Vi  spartite  e  sgranfiguate 
Si  dall  'un  ch  'all  'altro  estate. 
Bevo  il  vin  .  .  .  e  faro  poi 
Quel  che  alfin  vorrete  voi. 

RlCCARDO  A.    LUCCHESI, 


I29 


3fa  ^foreign  Congues 


Ed  in  festa  baldanzosa 
Tra  gli  scherzi  e  tra  le  risa, 
Lasciam  pur,  lasciam  passare 
Lui  che  in  numeri  ed  in  misure 
Si  ravvolge  e  si  consuma, 
E  quaggiu  Tempo  si  chiama: 
E  bevendo  e  ribevendo 
I  pensier  mandiamo  in  bando. 

—  REDI. 

Tete-a-tete   Brindisi. 

Tocchiam  le  coppe,  beviam,  se  vuoi, 
Purche  annegui  il  mio  cor  negli  occhi  tuoi ! 

—  L.  D.  VENTURA. 

German. 

Wer  nicht  liebet  Wein,  Weib  und  Gesang, 
Der  bleibet  ein  Narr  sein  Leben  lang ! 

—  MARTIN  LUTHER. 

Freude  sprudelt  in  Pokalen;  in  der  Traube  gold'nem 

Blut 
Trinken    Sanftmut    Kannibalen,  die  Verzweiflung 

Heldenmut!  — 
Bruder,  fliegt   von  euren    Sitzen,  wenn  der  voile 

R6  mer  kreist, 
Lasst  den  Schaum  zum  Himmel  spritzen :    Dieses 

Glas  dem  guten  Geist !  _  SCHILLER. 


130 


fn  ^foreign  Cottgues 


Der  Kreislauf  der  Rebe. 

"Aus  der  Rebe  in  die  Tonne,  aus  der  Tonne  in 

das  Fass, 
Aus  dem  Fasse  dann,  o  Wonne,  in  die  Flasche 

und  ins  Glas ! 
Aus  dem  Glase  in  die  Kehle,  aus  der  Kehle  in  den 

Schlund, 
Und  als  Blut  dann  in  die  Seele,  und  als  Wort 

dann  in  den  Mund! 
Aus  dem  Worte  etwas  spater  formt  sich  ein 

begeistert  Lied, 
Das  als  Sang  dann  in  den  Aether  mit  der  Menschen 

Jubel  zieht. 
Und  im  nachsten  Fnihling  wieder  fallen  diese 

Lieder  fein 
Dann  als  Tau  auf  Reben  nieder,  und  sie  werden 

wieder  Wein."       

Ehret  die  Frauen !    Sie  flechten  und  weben 
Himmlische  Rosen  ins  irdische  Leben. 

—  SCHILLER. 

Eine  Gesundheit  auf  die  Gesundheiten. 

Weg,  weg  mit  Wunschen,  Reimen,  Schwanken ! 

Trinkt  fleissig,  aber  trinket  still ! 
Wer  wird  an  die  Gesundheit  denken, 

Wenn  man  die  Glaser  leeren  will  ? 

—  LESSING. 


3fti  jfomgn  Cottgues 


Je  welter  der  Weg,  den  man  wandern  muss, 
Um  so  warmer  zu  sein  pflegt  ein  Liebesgruss, 
Ein  Gruss  zwischen  Freunden  und  Brudern ! " 


From  the  Chinese. 

With  wine  and  flowers  we  chase  the  hours 

In  one  eternal  spring ! 
No  moon,  no  light  to  cheer  the  night, 

Thyself  that  ray  must  bring. 

Psi  SUNG-LING. 

From  the  Sanscrit. 

In  climbing  tendrils  I  discern  thy  form, 

In  eyes  of  startled  hind  thy  glances ! 

And  in  the  moon  thy  lovely  face, 

In  peacocks'  plume  thy  shining  tresses ! 

The  sportive  frown  upon  thy  brow  is  flowing  waters' 

tiny  ripples ; 
But  never  in  one  place  combined  can  I,  alas !  behold 

thy  likeness.  -KALIDASA. 

Beside  the  lamp,  the  gleaming  hearth 
In  light  of  sun  or  moon  or  stars, 
Without  my  dear  one's  lustrous  eyes 
This  world  is  wholly  dark  to  me ! 

—  BHARTRIHARI. 


132 


^  iL    '    e    n    *    o    t  *^? 


A  Grace  After  Drink. 

Oh,  hear  us,  kindly  Bacchus, 
Lord  of  good  revelry, 

Whose  bright  elixir  teacheth  men 
What  the  immortals  be  — 

When  next  thy  joyous  satyrs 

Make  revelry  divine, 
And  blend  in  early  spring  the  sap 
mellows  into  wine, 


Grant  that  they  mix  no  malice, 
Nor  sudden  fray,  nor  strife, 

Nor  black  despond  nor  evil  thought  ', 
Nor  dull  despair  of  life, 

But  only  wit  and  kindness, 

And  laughter  fair  and  strong, 

And  sweet  content  and  merriment 
'That  move  the  heart  to  song  ! 

So,  when  the  grapes  are  bursting 
Along  thy  favored  hills, 

And  through  the  frozen  veins  of  men 
^Thy  golden  summer  thrills  ', 


133 


e  n  *  o  t  ^ 


Grant,  then,  that  we,  thy  servants, 

Shall  drink  in  soberness, 
And  hold  thy  godly  gift  too  dear 

For  barVrous  gross  excess. 

And  aye  from  every  flagon 

The  maiden  draught  be  thine — 

A  toast  to  merry  Bacchus, 
Lord  giver  of  the  vine! 

—  WILL  IRWIN. 


134 


